Trans-Atlantic - Postal History Sunday

Imagine that your troubles are the weeds in your vegetable plots (sadly we can picture that all too well).  Then, add to that picture all of your good friends and family members and pretend that they are all able to help you weed your vegetables.  If you do not have many friends or family members, just think of a horde of willing, able and friendly volunteers.  Sick them on the task of weeding those troubles out of your tasty veggies and viola!  Your troubles are gone!

With an introduction like that, I suspect it must be time for Postal History Sunday!

Mail between the United States and the United Kingdom

One of the areas of postal history I enjoy very much would be mail that crossed the Atlantic Ocean in the 1860s.  As many of you know (and the rest of you will soon know), I have been focusing on mail featuring the 24 cent stamps issued by the United States from 1861-1868.  Below is an example of the type of mail that catches my interest.

This is an 1862 letter from Boston (United States) to London (England).  The Boston postmark indicates to me that the letter was put in a mailbag which was then placed on the Cunard Line's Asia that departed Boston on August 6 so it could cross the Atlantic Ocean.  The Asia arrived at Queenstown (Cork, Ireland - also known as Cobh) on August 16 where the mailbag was offloaded.  A train took this bag of mail to Kingston (now known as Dún Laoghaire) where it would board a steamer to cross the Irish Sea to Holyhead.   From there, it would ride in another train to London.

Finally, the letter was removed from the bag and given an August 18 postmark to record its official arrival at the English exchange office in London. 

This is the mail service this postage stamp was primarily intended to be used for.  The United States and the United Kingdom agreed in 1848 that a letter weighing no more than 1/2 ounce could travel from the US to the UK for 24 cents.  This rate was effective from February 1849 until the end of December of 1867, so it would be tempting to think that these stamps were available for that entire period of time.

Interestingly enough, the first time a stamp with the 24 cent denomination was issued was 1860!  Until then, a person would have to apply two 12-cent stamps (or some other combination of stamps) to pay the postage.  From 1851 to 1859, you could buy stamps with 1-cent, 3-cent, 5-cent, 10-cent and 12-cent denominations.  In 1860, the United States added the 24-cent, 30-cent, and 90-cent denominations in response to the growing use of mail to foreign destinations.

This stamp is part of the series of postage stamps introduced in August of 1861.  The new stamps were issued in response to the secession of the southern states.  But that, as they say, is another story (and possibly another Postal History Sunday).

Now - because I want to - we should take a look at a letter that came back the other way (from the United Kingdom to the United States).

This thick folded letter has a dateline of August 24, 1867 and a Liverpool postmark on the back.  The New York marking on the front is dated September 4th.  And, the docket at the top left reads: paid Per "Persia" via Cork.

*** A Quick Reminder - We All Start Somewhere ***

Now - as a bit of an aside - when I first started looking at some of these letters from this period, I was confused by these dockets that said things like "Per Persia."  Not knowing much about Atlantic shipping at the time and the convention of dockets on mail, I would see the word "Persia" and think - "Wow!  This thing went to Persia!  Ummm.  But, why would it go from Liverpool to Persia and then Houston, Texas.  Hmmmm?"

Of course, once I figured out that many ships were named after places, it made more sense.  

I just want to remind all of us that it is ok to be confused by something that is new to you and it is fine to ask questions.  Why?  Because it means we have an opportunity to learn something that is new to us!  And learning is always cool - even if it is difficult, embarrassing, or inconvenient.

*** Back to the regularly scheduled program ***   

The Cunard Line's Persia did leave Liverpool on August 24 and arrived at Cork August 25.  Because the date is not readable on the Liverpool postmark, I can't say for certain that this letter boarded the ship at Liverpool or if it was sent by train to Holyhead, crossed the Irish Sea to Kingston and then by train to Cork just to catch the ship there.  The speedy trains could very well get a letter to Cork prior to the ships departure to cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Either way, it did take the Persia to New York, where it did arrive on September 4.

The postage was paid by two stamps, a one shilling and a two shilling, with a total of three shillings in postage paid.  The same agreement that set the postage rate at 24 cents for the United States to the United Kingdom required one shilling for the 1/2 ounce.  So, this letter must have weighed over one ounce and no more than 1 and 1/2 ounces.  In other words, this was a triple weight (or triple rate) letter.

There is certainly more to tell about this letter to Houston, Texas and that can be viewed at the Postal History Sunday entry titled Triple Threat. 

Of course, there is more than one country across the "Pond," so let's try another one!

Mail Between the United States and France

The United States did not have an agreement for mail with France until April of 1857.  This agreement set the rate of postage at 15 cents for every 1/4 ounce of mail and continued until the end of 1869.  However, there was no 15-cent stamp to pay for this rate until 1866, when a stamp was issued in memory of Abraham Lincoln after his assassination in April of 1865.

Until that time, a letter to France would most typically be paid by a combination of a five-cent and ten-cent stamp.  But, the example I am showing you today has a 15-cent Lincoln mourning stamp on it to pay the postage.

The letter above was mailed from New York and set sail on the Cunard Line's Tripoli on March 18, 1869.  

As an aside - if you sometimes wonder about what attracted me to this specific item, you might enjoy knowing that our farm is near Tripoli, Iowa, which is NOT the location this ship was named after.  I suspect the ship was named after the city in Libya since Tripoli, Iowa had yet to reach 100 inhabitants by 1880.  Meanwhile, the United States had already fought Barbary pirates at Tripoli, Libya, in the early 1800s.  So, I suspect Tripoli, Iowa, might not have the same clout for naming rights.

The Tripoli arrived in Queenstown, Ireland on March 30 and the mailbag entered France at Calais on April 1st.  

A postal historian actually gets more than one opportunity to find out more about a cover between the US and France because both countries provide some clues with their markings.  This is important because not every old letter has clear markings.  Sometimes they are smudged or inked lightly and you can't read all of the information.

This blue French marking tells me several things.  First, the letter came from the United States (Et.-Unis).  Second, it came on a steamship that was under contract with the US (Serv. Am.).  Third, the letter was taken on the train from Calais to Paris and this served as the French exchange office for the US mailbag this letter traveled in (Calais).  The simple fact that it entered France in Calais suggests it went via Queenstown (Ireland) or Southampton (near London).  This, and the date, can help confirm which ship carried the letter across the Atlantic.

That's a lot of information in one postal marking.

And now for a letter coming back the other way from Bordeaux (France) to New Orleans (US).

The rate for mail from France to the US was 80 centimes for every 7.5 grams.  The letter above has an 80 centime stamp that pays the postage for this letter.  The letter boarded a train from Bordeaux to Paris on November 16, 1859, then traveled on the train from Paris to Calais the next day.

The instructions given on this letter state that it was to go "by the first steamer from Liverpool."  I don't think you can get more explicit than that!  And, to no one's surprise, the letter left on Cunard Line's Europa from Liverpool on November 19th and the rest is history.   The Europa actually arrived at Boston late on the 1st of March and the letter was processed on March 2nd.

This handstamp found in the middle of this cover reads "Br. Service,"  which indicated the letter traveled on a steamship that was under contract with the British.  This is a hint to me, as a postal historian, that I should be checking for Cunard Line or Galway Line sailings if I want to figure out how the letter crossed the Atlantic. 

from France to US

from US to France

The Boston marking for this cover tells us the equivalent to 15 cents was paid in France.  There are NO clues as to which shipping line might have carried this letter.

The New York marking from the previous cover gives us the number "6," which tells us that six cents were due to the French postal service and nine cents were kept by the US.  This included the money needed to pay for the Atlantic crossing, so that gives me a clue regarding possible shipping lines based on that information.  It would have to be a shipping line under contract with the United States.  

Now - if you are paying attention - you will have noticed that the Cunard Line carried BOTH letters (remember that Tripoli thing?).  What's up with that?

It is true.  The Cunard Line was under contract with the British to carry the mail across the Atlantic for the entirety of the postal agreement from 1848 until 1867 between the United Kingdom and the United States.  However, when a NEW agreement was reached to begin on January 1, 1868, things changed.  And the letter that was carried on the Tripoli was mailed in 1869.

As of 1868, for a letter that was leaving the US for the UK, the Cunard Line was sailing under a US contract.  If the letter was leaving the UK for the US, the Cunard Line was sailing under a UK contract.

Ain't postal history grand?!?  Just move a few years forwards or backwards and everything you think you know changes!   Well, ok.  Not everything.  But, you do have to pay attention because you shouldn't assume the processes for mail carriage have always stayed the same.

Mail To and From the Papal State

Rome, and the surrounding territory known as the Patrimony of St Peter (or Latium), resisted joining the Kingdom of Italy that had formed under the leadership of Sardinia beginning in 1859.  The map below can give you a picture of the territory that was still held by the Papacy after 1859 until 1870 (territory in pink).

Don't let the cities of Isoletta and Napoli confuse on this map.  This is a map I created for another purpose and it was good enough to illustrate my point.  Yes, sometimes I run out of time and I have to make due.  It's a weekly blog, things like this happen sometimes.

What this little piece of history means for you and I as we look at mail going to Rome is that the Papal State had its own mail service, issuing its own stamps.  And, the Papal State had no postal agreement with the United States.

So, what does that mean for a person who wants to send a letter from Boston to Rome? Something like the folded letter shown below that was mailed in mid-April of 1862 from Boston to Rome.

If two postal systems did not have a negotiated postal convention that outlined how mail could be exchanged between them, they would have to look for intermediary postal systems to help them do just that.  Typically (but not always), the two postal systems would have a treaty with some third-party postal system in common.  Italy and the United States each had their own agreements with France.  This made it possible to use France's postal service as the intermediary.  

As a point of information, the British, Prussian, Bremen and Hamburg mails could also serve as an intermediary between Rome and the U.S. in 1862, but most of the mail was carried via France.

The treaty between France and the United States (established in 1857) included instructions for mail that France was to serve as an intermediary.  Article VIII of the postal treaty between these two nations mentions that each country would carry mail and pass it on to other postal services beyond their borders (if you wish to see the actual text of the treaty, it is here).  This would allow the sender to prepay the entire required postage to get between the US and Rome.

The rate was 27 cents per quarter ounce and it was a valid rate from April of 1857 through December of 1870.

This letter was put in a mailbag to go to France at Boston's exchange office and is dated April 15th.  The mailbag was sent to New York so it could board the trans-Atlantic steamship named Niagara for departure the next day.  The Niagara dropped the mailbag off at Queenstown (Ireland) on April 27.  From there it went by train to Kingston (Ireland), it crossed the Irish Sea to Holyhead and then it went through London and crossed the English Channel to France at Calais.

Wait a second....  who said anything about the United Kingdom getting involved in this?

Ok, you got me.  I did not mention to you that the US - French agreement included language that allowed mail to be sent via the UK, sometimes using Atlantic steamers under contract with the British.  

This is a great example of how services agreed upon under one postal treaty had the potential to be accessed via another treaty.  The French had an agreement with the British.  The United States also had an agreement with the British.  When the US and France created their postal convention, they could use those agreements to allow mail to go via the UK.  Similarly, the agreement France made with the Papal States allowed access to the United States, which, in turn, allowed access to the British system.

Got all that?  No?  That's ok, sometimes you just have to accept things as a matter of faith.

Back to the letter in question...

The letter was finally taken out of the mailbag somewhere in France on April 29 (see the black circular marking above) on its way to Marseilles.  At that point, it took another steamship that arrived at Civitavecchia (near Rome).  We know it took a ship from Marseilles to Civitavecchia because the Rome marking on the back reads "via di mare" (by the sea).

The Rome post office put the ink slash in black ink across the envelope to indicate that it recognized postage for the letter had been paid.  The recipient would have to pay nothing more to collect the letter.

So, now that we are in Rome, let's see if we can't travel back the way we came!

What you see above is an envelope that was mailed in Rome in March of 1861 - destined for New York City.  The stamps were issued by the Papal State and used the bajocco (plural is bajocchi) as the currency unit.  The stamp issue is commonly referred to as the Papal Keys issue.  These keys represent the keys of heaven given to St. Peter that had the power of "binding and loosing," one made of gold and the other of silver.  Their appearance on the postage stamps were simply an affirmation of the papacy's authority.

The postage required in Rome to prepay a letter to the United States was 32 bajocchi per 7.5 grams (roughly 1/4 ounce) and this rate was effective from January 1, 1858 through August 30, 1866.

Compare that to the rate period for the United States and their 27 cent rate to Rome (April 1857 through December 1869).  Yes, they are different, which probably requires some sort of explanation.

What we need to remember is that France is an intermediary country in this case.  They have an agreement with the United States that sets the terms for how they will carry mail to Italy and the Papal State.  Unless the US and France agreed to do something different, there was not going to be a change in the postal rate during that time for mail going from the US to Rome.

On the other hand, the agreement between France and the Papal State could change, even if the agreement with the United States did not.  In fact, even more than that changed!  Rome and the surrounding area actually adopted the use of the Italian Lira as its currency, so the bajocco was no longer the measure for postage in Rome.  This is, of course, a simplification because there was certainly a transition period.  But, maybe that sort of discussion can be its own Postal History Sunday some day?

The markings on the front can be read, even if it takes a bit of concentration to do so.

The black, circular marking is a Rome marking for March 23, 1861, which indicates the date when the letter entered the mail in Rome.  The black diamond shaped grid is the obliterating cancel that was used to make it difficult for someone to re-use the postage stamps.

The red, double-circled marking shows us the next step of this letter's journey.  It went via ship from Civitavecchia to Marseilles, arriving there on March 27.  The words at the top of that marking read "E. Pont" or état pontifical.  A marking on the back shows us the next step of the journey.

This marking was applied on the train that ran from Paris to Calais (March 27).  From there, this letter went across the English Channel and reverses the journey of the previous letter.  It appears that it boarded the Edinburgh on March 28 at Queenstown (Ireland) and crossed the Atlantic Ocean to New York, arriving on April 8.

If you want to see a larger version of the map, feel free to click on the image to view it.  This gives you a visual representation of some of the routes via France to Italy at the time these letters traveled from place to place.

Now that we have returned from our travels to and from Rome, I think I found the explanation as to why I seem to keep landing on the 1860s period.  Ok, it doesn't explain everything, but it is an early Postal History Sunday that gives some explanation as to why I collect and research some of the areas I do!  

Aren't I sneaky, I just might get you to read (or re-read) another PHS all in one sitting.  Alas for you!

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Thank you for joining me for Postal History Sunday.  I hope you enjoyed reading this and that, perhaps, you learned something interesting and new to you.

Have a great remainder of the day and a fine week to come.

Postal History Sunday is published each week at both the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you are interested in prior entries, you can view them, starting with the most recent, at this location.

Be A Real Fan

It's the time of year when baseball is often on my mind.  I like the game for what it is, even if I don't always appreciate some of the culture that comes along with it.  This post was originally shared in 2020 on July 6, I have made a few readability edits - otherwise it is the same post.  The story and the thoughts are still as relevant now as they were then and I thank you for reading and considering them (both the story and the thoughts).

--------------------------

My Dad likes to tell the story about how I turned out to be a left-handed baseball player.  Apparently, he would toss a ball towards me with his right hand and I would pick it up and throw it back with my left.  When he decided to test this out by tossing one my way with his left hand, I returned it with my right. 

Yes, I was an observant child - even if my observations were very much colored by my own personal perspective.  That explains why I throw left-handed.  It may explain some other things, I'm just not sure what.

Growing up, I would certainly participate in football and basketball, but baseball was the sport that attracted me the most.  I played all the way through high-school and considered college, but found time to be too limited and had to make choices.  Once I graduated, I found fast-pitch softball and then rediscovered baseball when my brother invited me to play in a baseball league centered around the Newton/Des Moines area.  I was still playing in that league until about 2012 or so.  I didn't stop playing because I couldn't or didn't want to.  I stopped because the combination of the drive and conflicts with the farm and other duties became too much. 

Who is that "00" guy?

You're Garbage!

Our high school home games were called by the local radio station and we did have someone running the PA address and scoreboard.  There was even a concessions stand.  One of the things I recall is that our Newton Cardinals did not have terribly many 'fans' who attended our games at Woodland Park.  But, there was a core group consisting mostly of parents and family, a few good friends and even a few community members that just liked to support us with their presence. 

Then, there was the group who came to the park and used the game as an excuse to gather.  In a very loose sense of the word, they were 'fans.'  They would cheer our team if we did something good - if they managed to notice.  What they were really there for was the 'sport' of jeering our opponents.

"Heyyy #12!!!  You SUCK!  You're GARBAGE!  Go back to your hole in the ground!"

Normally, they were not terribly creative because the only thing that changed was the uniform number, the rest of the words were essentially the same.  The players could usually ignore it as background noise.  But, I will tell you this - very few of us, if any, found it to be of any real value when we were the home team.  When these people didn't show, we didn't miss them one bit.

This group would cross a line if, heaven help you, you were the away team and there was a player on your team who had a physical characteristic that made them stand out.

"Hey FATTY!  Get off the field and go eat more candy!"
"Go gnaw down a tree for a new bat Bucky!"
or
"Nigger!  I've got a rope right here for you!"

Yes.  I heard each of those at high school games.  The last was directed at one of our Junior Varsity players when I was a senior (and not on the JV squad).  You see, each and every school had an area where a group of people who were not really fans would come to hang out and use the game as an excuse to belittle and abuse others.  And yes, players were instructed to ignore them regardless of what was said.  But, it did not stop the entire varsity squad from sending a collective glare towards the source of that last comment.

It wasn't right then - and it isn't right now.  And I see that this still goes on with a sad example at a 2020 Waverly-Shell Rock game. 

What Real "Fans" Do

I have something to tell you - I AM left-handed - sort of.

Why would a person drive 2 to 2.5 hours, ONE WAY, to play one or two games of men's baseball every weekend during the Summer when there was a farm to take care of?  I was asked that question frequently when people learned how far away from the ballpark I lived.  It wasn't until I was also asking that question a bit too often that we stopped making the trip.  It certainly wasn't because I was tired of playing and it was not because of the wildlife.

Obviously, there is a love for the game and a joy that comes with participating.  But, I would not have continued if I didn't have Tammy's support.  She typically drove both ways.  As a passenger I could begin prepping by putting on the suntan lotion, stretching etc etc.  She also drove back because someone who was functioning well should be driving!  After a double header in Summer heat, that was not me.

But, I want to go back again to my high school playing days to memories of what the true fans did that encouraged me to continue to play this game well after most had tried slow pitch softball for a few seasons before ceasing to play altogether.  The things I remember hearing were words of encouragement and praise for effort.  Perhaps my Dad didn't think I was listening for him, but I heard his words and his tone that encouraged all of us to do well.  And, by that I mean the whole team.  He bothered to learn names.  He didn't have to say too much either, because even a little bit went a long way.

The great news?  He was not the only parent who was at many games and who dished out the praise and the support.  I remember Mr. Trease doing the same - I recognized his voice because I played on the same team as his son through little leagues and into high school.  No one blamed them if they reserved more support for their team - but they also applauded fine plays by the opposition as well.  If someone crossed the line, they would say so.  The problem of course, is that the group that was there to jeer were typically well away from the rest of the fans.

Even better news?  There were parents like that at most schools I remember playing at.  It was actually a bit uncomfortable when we played at a school where there wasn't a positive fan base for the home team.
 
We Need More Real Fans
Let me be perfectly clear here.  I loved playing baseball.  And I got to be quite good at the "Do or Die" play from Right Field.

But, looking back, I learned more while I was playing baseball than you might think.

• I learned that there are people who love getting attention and approval by attacking others.
• I learned that people like that are motivated by someone else's failure because it makes them feel better about their own shortcomings.
• I learned that there are some pretty ugly ideas out there and that it is good for me to think harder about my own assumptions regarding other people.
• I learned that heckling and jeering has no real value overall.  At best, it is ignored as background noise.  At worst it can permanently wound a person.
• And, I learned where some of those 'lines' are that should not be crossed.  When they are, it is time to push back rather than ignore what is going on.

Even better - I learned some things from the real fans!

•  I learned that I can achieve positive things and I learned to adjust my goals based on what I had achieved thus far.
• I learned that it isn't just about me - it's about making the whole team better.
• I learned to appreciate the success of others, while I also learned to celebrate my own accomplishments.
• I learned the value of encouragement and enduring support.
• I learned that role models (both positive and negative) have power, but it is up to those of us looking at these people to decide what sort of power we will give them.
• I learned how to give constructive criticism blended with praise for effort and encouragement to help others learn and improve.

And, I learned to appreciate the people who showed up and gave us real support and real encouragement.  As far as I know, none of the Newton Cardinal teams I played on had players that went on to professional baseball.  But, because there were some real fans, I suspect there were a number of young ball players who turned into pretty good people.

Today's challenge to us all - be real fans.

Sit There Again

 

Tammy and I try to go visit Sweet Marsh fairly regularly just to sit and listen to the birds and watch the water to see what creatures will make themselves known to us.  Yes, I suppose we should go walking too, but these trips often have very different goals than a walk or a hike often has.  

You see, if you sit in one spot calmly, nature will come to you.  If you tread with heavy feet on the path, creatures typically flee or hide.  You will miss the way the dragonfly either trolls for food or protects its small patch of the marsh.  This time I sat on the dock and watched while one particular dragonfly would move slowly over the water (about two feet above it) until it it either encountered another dragonfly or it met some sort of criteria I was not privy to.  Then, it would either zoom around its opponent or it would zip back to a starting point and being the same slow advance all over again.

If you sit in one place long enough you can notice the  moment when the clouds and the sunlight interact in such a way that you can capture the contrast of a lily flower and the lily pads against water that appears to be almost black.  And maybe you can sit there long enough so that the frogs you scared into the water as you walked onto the dock will climb back onto a lily pad so you can converse with them quietly.

This particular Green Frog escaped my notice until much later, when I took some steps on the shore.  It responded with a startled (and startling) chirp and jumped into the water.  This particular frog decided it wanted to keep an eye on me, so it held very still in this area between lily pads and duckweed.  

After Tammy and I had a chance to review the photos I was able to take, she noted the interesting outline of the water near the lily pads in the center.  

Sometimes you see things and they don't register, which is why I do like the opportunity a camera provides for me.  I have an opportunity to "re-see" some things that can help me understand what was there.  It also helps me to see even better the next time around.  

It's a good reminder that our brains do need some training to see, just like it needs training to listen.

We have very much appreciated the Merlin app that is offered by Cornell Labs.  It displays a bird name soon after it records a song that it can identify a match and I have the app set to show the most recent match, even if it has heard a particular bird before in the recording session.

Merlin's accuracy seems to be pretty good because we have been able to verify most birds it claims to have heard, though we can attest that it has tried more than once to match some of the odd sounds our hens make with various water birds.  Not a surprise as we are learning most birds have a range of vocalizations and there can be overlap in tone, song-type and texture of their voices.

An American Robin by the water's edge

Both of us have grown up knowing the sounds of some birds that can commonly be found in towns, such as the American Robin or a House Wren.  But it has been good to train our brains to more readily recognize the songs of the Common Yellowthroat, the Indigo Bunting, and the Warbling Vireo (each of which have become fairly common birds at the Genuine Faux Farm).

We have noticed that the Merlin app can have a hard time hearing anyone else if Mr. Wren is very close as it belts out its song.  The House Sparrows have a similar effect when they get going too.  And Merlin never seems to catch the Ring-necked Pheasants that periodically croak at us on the farm.  (Well, ok, it's caught it once or twice, but our ears do a much better job on that bird than Merlin does).

One bird that didn't take me long to learn was the Song Sparrow.  These little birds often came out to watch us work in the fields at the Genuine Faux Farm - preferring to observe us from a bush or some tall grass stems.  They would scatter if there were any engines, like a tractor or a tiller running.  But if the humans were walking behind a wheel hoe or weeding a row of some crop or another, they would sing sweetly about their day.

Sometimes these birds would be so close that I felt it was important to stop what I was doing and pay full attention.  There were moments when I would quietly tell them I was ready to hear their song and I would ask them politely if they would share.

And often they would.

When that happened, I would be sure to listen fully until the concert was over - the end usually indicated by a flash of wings and the departure of the bird from my vicinity.

The best applause was quietly saying "thank you" and going about my business in hopes that there would be an encore.

Another Unsung Pollinator

Over the last few years I have been gaining more appreciation for pollinators and beneficial insects (and other critters) that can be found at the Genuine Faux Farm.  Yes, I've always had some appreciation for them, but I think it is safe to say that we all start out with some basic knowledge and appreciation - somehow most of us learned early that honeybees and butterflies are good.  But after that, the appreciation of the general populace for other critters is spotty, at best.

In my case, I willingly admit that my understanding and acceptance of different pollinators is an ongoing project.  It all starts with a willingness to learn about them.  It's always harder to feign indifference or outright hostility when you know more about someone or something.  And, after last year's endeavor to learn more about wasps, I find myself looking harder at the various wasp-like creatures and finding a wide range of types and temperaments.

I was doing some small-engine maintenance and I noticed this little critter fly by me with a long blade of dry grass.  It was dry grass mostly because that's all we had a little over a week ago.  So, this picture is from the days when rainfall was only a myth at the farm.

The wasp pulled the grass into the pipe and was in there for a while.  So, I thought I'd try and get a picture of it emerging.

If you look carefully, you can see it peeking out at us here.

Now, truth in advertising the FIRST picture you see in this blog is actually later than the second.  I didn't have a camera when I first noticed my little friend, so I dashed to get the camera and hoped I could catch it as it emerged and flew away from the pipe.

The next picture I took, thinking I would catch it emerging was this one.

I was a little slow.

Look carefully at this picture towards the bottom right.  You will find my little friend's head.  I actually captured it in mid-flight, but barely in the frame of the picture.  It's almost as if it were teasing me on purpose - or intended to photobomb me.

Happily, it did return and repeat the process of pulling a piece of dried grass into the tube, where it was most certainly building a nest.  Now, I have to figure out how I want to handle this bucket with pipes that I intended to recycle because I don't want to disturb the nest!

I did spend a little time looking and found out that - surprise surprise - this has been named the "Grass-Carrying Wasp" and has the scientific name Isodontia mexicana.

This particular wasp had a beautiful purple sheen to its wings and it was very industrious in building a next for its young.  It would go find a nice blade of grass, cut it off and then carry it back to the pipe.  There are some great pictures from the site I referenced above of the nest, so I suggest you take that to see more images and to learn more about them.

These wasps are not aggressive.  I suppose if you tried to hold one in your hand and keep it captive, it might feel like it had no choice but to sting.  Otherwise, it's more interested in building a nest, or finding some food, than it is in you.  Yes, sorry, it isn't all about you.

These wasps tend to hunt crickets and will visit flowering plants for nectar - making them yet another unexpected pollinator in our world.  They often show a preference for white flowers, though I know I have seen them on Goldenrod in the past.  The nectar provides energy for the female as she works to build the nest for her young.

I haven't noticed this wasp recently, so the nests must be complete.  Maybe now is the time to decide where they will stay until the young hatch.

More Favorites - Postal History Sunday

Hello everyone!  It's good to see you (virtually) visiting this week's Postal History Sunday.  Everyone is welcome here, whether you are an avid postal historian or are just idly curious about why that crazy farmer likes these old pieces of paper!  Tie your troubles to a firework and let them shoot up into the sky where they'll explode into tiny, glittering shooting stars.  Put on the fuzzy slippers, get a favorite beverage and enjoy a few minutes while I share something I enjoy.

This past week has been an exceptionally difficult one, so we're just going to keep this one relaxed.  The theme this time around is motivated by a couple of questions I received.  One person asked me if I had a favorite Swiss cover in my collection and another asked if I had a favorite cover from the 1900s.  So, we're just going to look at a few of my current favorites and see where it goes!

About that favorite Swiss cover....

I have not yet featured this particular item, though it may have been used to illustrate some point somewhere in the middle of a Postal History Sunday in the past.  This is a simple letter that was mailed in Basel, Switzerland, with London as the eventual destination.  A green 40 rappen postage stamp and an orange 20 rappen postage stamp combined to pay the 60 rappen required per 7.5 grams of weight if the letter was sent via France (which this one was).  This postal rate for mail from Switzerland to the United Kingdom via France was effective from August 15, 1859 to September 30, 1965.

The postal markings help tell us how this letter got from here to there:

Basel Briefexpedition Sep 24, 1859
Suisse -3- St Louis Sep 26 (marking applied in Paris)
Paris A Calais Sep 26 (on the back of the letter - applied on a mail train)
London Sep 27

The default route during this period was for mail between the United Kingdom and Switzerland to be taken through France as the intermediary postal service. However, there was alternative!  Mail could be sent via the Prussian and Belgian mail.  But, if a letter was very light (less than 7.5 grams), this was a cheaper alternative.  A slightly heavier letter weighing over 7.5 grams and no more than 15 grams would actually be cheaper if sent via the Prussian service.  Perhaps, one day, I'll be able to illustrate an example using each option - but today is not that day.

My reasons for liking this cover have to do with the clear markings and the overall clean appearance, of course.  But, it is a bit more than that.  It has more to do with how often a person gets to see something.  In general, foreign mail from one country to another becomes less common the further from each other they get.  It is not so difficult to find letters from Switzerland to France or Italy or various German States.  But, once you select a destination that is not bordering Switzerland, it becomes a bit harder to find examples.

It isn't so much about rarity, however, for me.  In my case, it provides me with an opportunity to study how mail travels from one postal service, then through an intermediary (France) on its way to the destination postal service.

Another Swiss cover that I considered selecting has been featured in its own Postal History Sunday here and two others were part of this entry.

A favorite cover from the 1900s

Shown above is a letter mailed from Detroit, Michigan to Riga Latvia in September of 1935.  This was sent as a registered letter via surface mail to a foreign country and two 10-cent stamps were used to pay for the postage and the registered mail fee.  

What is surface mail?  Its counterpart would be air mail, which was beginning to get a foothold in the 1930s.  Surface mail was less expensive and could use various modes of transportation via ground and water to get to where it was going.

In the case of the letter above, it likely took a train to a port city, such as New York or Boston, and boarded a ship to Europe.  By the time we get to 1935 there were many options for mail to be carried over the Atlantic and the lack of markings do nothing to help us figure out the route this might have taken.

In 1934, a series of ten stamps were issued to honor the National Parks of the United States.  Each of the ten stamps had a different denomination, from 1 cent (Yosemite) to 10 cents (Great Smokey Mountains).  The stamps on this cover were the denomination that was issued last (put on sale October 8, 1934).  If you have interest in reading more about the background of these stamps, there is an article with large pictures of each denomination offered by the White House Historical Association.

This series of stamps was one that caught my attention early in my collecting endeavors.  As a kid, with a kid's budget, I was pretty much able to acquire things with minimum value, often given to me by relatives.  The National Parks issue of 1934 had a few values that fell under that category, but the 10 cent Great Smokey Mountains stamp was not one of those.  If I recall correctly, it had a catalog value in the neighborhood of  $1.70, which was a relative fortune.  In fact, a nice copy of this stamp was probably my first targeted purchase for my collection.

I think we all have things that trigger early memories and many of us are fortunate to have pleasant memories we don't mind recalling.  This stamp issue does that for me.  And, the ten-cent value has a personal significance.  So, when I came across this particular item from Detroit to Riga, I did not have to think too hard about adding it to my personal collection a couple of years ago and it remains a favorite.

How about a favorite 24 cent cover?

Ok, I did not JUST hear this question, but it is a fairly common question I get since this is the main focus of my interests.  It's also, kind of an unfair question because I like all of them (of course).  But, it is not unreasonable to expect that I may appreciate one more than others at any given time.

There are many that I think I would not be faulted for selecting, but this is one that has been with me for some time and the complexity and the story that surrounds a very good looking piece of postal history is hard to beat.

This letter was mailed in Worcester on January 2 of 1866 and arrived in London on January 13.  Baring Brothers & Co had managed the Honorable P.C. Bacon's line of credit and provided the mail forwarding service.  They apparently figured out that he had left (and not left them with a balance to cover forwarding costs for mail that needed to get sent on the U.S.).  As a result, they remailed this letter in London on January 20 and sent it back to Worcester as an unpaid letter. 

 

This letter retraced its steps - taking the train from London to Holyhead, crossing the St Georges to Kingston and then taking the train to Queenstown.  Once there, it left on the Cunard Line's Africa on January 21 which arrived at February 3 in Boston.

 

Baring Brothers applied no stamp and they apparently did not pay ANY postage for the return trip to the United States.  That means the recipient would be required to pay the postage for that return trip.

 

This is the key marking on that cover that tells me what the Honorable P.C. Bacon was going to have to pay the United States post office in order to read the letter that traveled across the Atlantic Ocean twice.  The marking is in black ink - just one indication that the item was received unpaid.  P.C. Bacon could either pay 24 cents in proper coin or he could pay in "greenbacks" (also known as depreciated currency) to the tune of 32 cents.

This story is a good one and a favorite of mine.  If you would like to read about it in more detail, you can go here.

 

An item I am looking forward to learning more about

 

Shown above is a letter mailed from Christiania (now Oslo), Norway to Paris, France in 1869.  There are fifteen skillings worth of postage on this letter, which seems to be correct based on observations of other letters from Norway to France during this time period.  I can probably construct a likely route as well based on what I know now.

But, that's the point I am trying to make.  I have very little knowledge of the postage rates and routes for Norway in the 1860s.  In fact, I am not entirely sure which resources to go to as I start digging.  Postal history is a tremendously large and complex area of interest.  A person can quickly and easily move out of their area of knowledge and comfort - which is exactly part of the appeal.  There is so much one can explore and learn!

Of course, entering new territory can be frustrating, but each time I explore new areas I develop skills that help me to get better at what I do.

 

One more before we go?

Since I am writing this week's Postal History Sunday on Saturday night after I spent part of the day weeding onions and pushing a wheel hoe, I thought it would be appropriate to share an illustrated advertising cover that features some of the hand tools of my trade.

Shown above are five individuals pushing straddle wheel hoes to cultivate a field of, presumably, vegetables.  Either a blade or some sort of tine implement would be behind each wheel (and on either side of the crop).  The idea is to cultivate as close to the row as possible without damaging the crop.  

The wheel how I use has a single wheel and a stirrup hoe provides me with the blade that follows behind it.  So, when I wheel hoe a crop I walk on either side of the row to get as close as I can to the vegetable crop.  I have also used a wheel hoe similar to this, but I learned using the single wheel and have become quite proficient at it.  I actually find the straddle wheel hoe to be uncomfortable because you have to walk with your feet a bit further apart to avoid stepping on the crop.

The front of the cover illustrates a hand seeder tool with a similar handle system.  This type of tool allows you to use your larger muscles and to keep a more balanced and even stature.  Anyone who has done this sort of work can tell you that tools that favor one side or the other (like a normal hoe) require you to learn to work both left and right handed unless you want to develop a repetitive stress injury.

Well!  How do you like that, I even got a little farming into Postal History Sunday this time around.  Always full of surprises aren't we?

Thank you for joining me today.  I hope you have a fine remainder of your weekend and wonderful week to come.

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Postal History Sunday is published each week at both the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you are interested in prior entries, you can view them, starting with the most recent, at this location.

A Different "Bowling" for Kittens

Murphy the Nibster is still growing, but she is still a small cat.  And, she is showing us that there are apparently just some things a cat knows without being taught.  For example, if there is an opportunity to sit in a box or a bowl, you should just do it.

This yellow bowl was used by Tammy to mix up some top-dressing for plants that were still in trays.  Essentially, we get the top dressing uniformly damp so it won't just shed water when we try to water the plants later.  The bowl was sitting in the lawn awaiting the rinsing that was to come later in the day, but that was not to be...

Because Murphy felt the cat's obligation to sit in, or on, things that don't seem to be intended for sitting in... or on.

And we leave you with that image on this Saturday.  A cat in a bowl.

Have a good weekend everyone.

The Meeting Cat Retires

 

Bree the Meeting Cat, as she was known to my colleagues at Pesticide Action Network, has cleared her schedule and will no longer be joining me in Zoom meetings.  A couple of weeks ago, we shared that Bree was in declining health and we were doing what we reasonably could to make her comfortable.  We knew she did not have much longer in this world, but she still had a purr or two for us up until (almost) the very end.

For those persons who have seen Zoom presentations or meetings where a black tail appears on the screen (but rarely much more of the cat), this is what she looked like from the front.  And yes, she did like to crawl into a sack or a box every so often (though much less over the past half year).

We made her final vet appointment for this past Wednesday afternoon. The vet agreed that the time had come.  It was fairly obvious to me because she simply sat in my lap as we drove there, putting up no struggle - but accepting all of the skritches we were willing to give.

Here's to a good life lived.

Do You Mind If I Smoke?

Wednesday was going to be a difficult day after a series of difficult days.  But I was hopeful that I could spend a little time cultivating in Valhalla (one of our high tunnels) or doing some sort of outdoors farm work.  Maybe a little time working with the soil and green and growing things would offset some of struggle some of the other events had introduced into our lives.

But I didn't count on the smoke.

Visibility fell to less than one mile and after doing chores and a few other things outside, I recognized that I was starting to cough and my lungs were starting to feel a bit tight.  So, I had to retreat to the indoors where we are among those who are fortunate to have some sort of air conditioning.

This Air Quality Index (AQI) map was copied from the Iowa Department of Natural Resources site at about noon on Wednesday.  You can view an interactive map here.  At the point I took this image, the IQAir site listed Waterloo's AQI at 189.  

This rating puts us soundly in the "unhealthy" range and on the edge (200) of the "very unhealthy" rating.  At least we are still a long ways away from "hazardous."

Tammy had checked the AQI numbers earlier in the day and reported that she saw readings in our area over 200.  By my observations, looking out the window or when I go outside, I am certain the numbers would fluctuate throughout the day.  Sometimes I can see the neighbors house that is a half mile away pretty clearly.  Sometimes.... not so much.

Perhaps the most difficult thing to swallow in all of this from my personal perspective is the comfortable temperatures and the nice breeze that would knock down some of the gnats that often bother us when we're outdoors at the farm.  It would be a great day to be outside at the Genuine Faux Farm.

If only you could breathe.

I recognize that my own little inconveniences only trivialize what is actually happening in the world around me.  I grabbed this map from a location I forgot to document earlier in the month of June.  And, if you're interested in satellite images that show the fires and smoke, I suggest this site.  This isn't just one or two wildfires, it is hundreds of wildfires all over Canada.  While I am struggling with smoke in Iowa, I recognize how much worse the situation must be for our neighbors to the north.

So, I guess I'll just deal with a difficult day in a different way.  After all, it could be more difficult than it already is.  Sometimes that's the blessing you have to count, when others don't seem so obvious to you.

Walk There Again - Wapsipinicon River

It shouldn't be a difficult thing for us to do, since we live just a little over a mile away from the Wapsipinicon River, but we don't stop to appreciate it all that often.  Certainly, we do drive by and cross over it fairly frequently as we go from here to there.  And that might be the reason we don't find the motivation to get out and visit it.  Familiarity breeds indifference?

Ok, we certainly are not indifferent about the Wapsi.  But, the relative proximity of the Wapsi makes it too easy to put off the visit for another day because it doesn't require a special trip to get there.  I will point out that Tammy and I have gotten in the habit of visiting Sweet Marsh Wildlife Area for our nature fix and outdoor break from life and the farm.  It is also nearby - so maybe it isn't so much the proximity issue.

It's probably more that we perceive the number of things we need to do to be greater than the time we have to do them.  That constant pressure turns our "yes let's visit" to "not now, but later."

Last week, we actually said "yes" and pulled into an access area not far from our farm.  The odd thing about that is we were on the way back to the farm after visiting the marsh.  I think this was a case where there were so many "heavy" things on our minds that we realized we needed a little bit more healing time.

Or perhaps we just couldn't quite find the gumption to get back to doing things we felt we needed to be doing.  Does it really matter what the reason was?

The access area provided further evidence of the devastation wrought by the Emerald Ash Borer.  Several bare trees that had once offered a greeting to those visiting this particular location stood sentinel, making me wonder if coming here was a good idea if I wanted to move my mind away from world worries.  But then I noticed a woodpecker moving amongst the branches and I was reminded that the dead trees still offered something to the world.

The bird activity in this area was significant and we were able to identify a wide range of bird calls and visually take note of many of them.  We even heard a Prothonotary Warbler that was initially identified by the Merlin app and then confirmed by me a bit later as a flash of yellow crossed the river.

That brought me back to trees.  The trees leaned over the river, providing a canopy to shade the water.  Birds like the warbler would periodically flit from the branches on one side of the Wapsi to the waiting arms of another tree or bush on the other side.  

Sometimes the trees lose their footing and fall into the water

And sometimes, they look at their own reflections.

It can be difficult to contemplate the natural loss of trees as they succumb to pests, diseases or gravity.  I know full-well that this is part of the natural order of things.  Not every tree is a perfect yard specimen.  Not every tree will reach full maturity.  Not every tree succeeds to live hundreds of years.  And some trees lose their grip on a river bank.

I suspect I could accept this natural order if it didn't feel as if humans have done too good of a job making it even more difficult for trees on this earth.

And there I was again, sullying a perfectly good "walk there again" by the Wapsipinicon River with these thoughts about the world's problems.  So, I stopped and took more time observing the dappled sun filtering through the leaves of the tree canopy and the ripples that disturbed the reflections on the water.  Reminding me why it is that I care about trees, birds, rivers and marshes.

Compost is Gold

One of the adjustments we have made over the past few years at the Genuine Faux Farm has been the management of our high tunnels, Eden and Valhalla.  While I say "adjustments" I actually mean "adaptations to reality of now."  When you go three years running where one or both of the farmers is down during the time of year when planting and high tunnel moving is supposed to happen, you adapt to the reality of what is....  even if you do it kicking and screaming.

For those who do not realize it, our two high tunnels are built so that they can move back and forth between two growing locations.   And, if you're not entirely sure what I mean by a high tunnel, you're looking at a photo of the inside of one of these hoop buildings.  We grow in the soil that is covered by the building.  If you want to see what some of that looks like, here's a post from 2017.

In any event, we found ourselves planting in our high tunnels in the same location that they were in last year.  In Eden's case, it hasn't been moved during any of the three seasons I just mentioned.  We had some help moving Valhalla a couple of seasons ago.

And now for the good news and adaptation.  We had, at our disposal a nice finished pile of compost that we could use to help rejuvenate some of the soil inside the buildings.  In the picture above, you can see that Rosie (the tractor) has a nice full bucket from that pile.  The bright sun fooled the camera a bit and it didn't pick up the deep, rich and dark color of this compost.

Both Tammy and I liked the feel and the smell of the black gold we pulled out.  Anyone who has worked with composting can tell you that a person learns the texture and scent indicators of quality compost.  And, other than a few things, like some baling twine and bigger sticks, this was good stuff!

We took the time to dig a planting whole for each pepper plant in Eden and filled them with the compost.  Then we put in the plants and covered with the soil removed from the hole.  It's a much longer process of planting, but for what we are doing now this was the best answer.

Eden now has had 120 Quadrato asti Giallo peppers planted for over a week now and they are looking very good.  These peppers are being grown out to harvest the seed for Seed Savers Exchange and I think we're on track for some excellent production.  The next steps are to finish caging the plants and to trim off the early fruit set to encourage them to put on a bit more growth first.

Quadrato asti Giallo is a pepper we have grown since 2008 (maybe earlier) and it was even in our top veggie variety list for 2018.  The good thing about having a history with an heirloom variety is that we are able to select plants that will help maintain a strong and healthy strain.  When we transplanted these peppers from seed trays to pots, we removed twenty plants that had germinated but were weak or showed some other issue we wouldn't want to propagate.  Another two dozen didn't get put in the high tunnel for similar reasons.  

Now we've got a very good looking mini-forest of peppers in Eden - all of them feasting on quality compost.  Keep checking back with the blog and we'll keep you updated on their progress.

Ball of Fire

It's June and we've just passed the Summer Solstice, the "longest day" of the year.  The sunsets are as late in the day as they ever are at the Genuine Faux Farm.  The hens don't want to go into their room and the humans just want to finish the chores so they can go to their room.

It is not uncommon for us to have some really nice sunsets at the end of these long days.  What is uncommon is a June day where I have enough energy remaining so I think to have the camera with me as I head north towards the larger high tunnel (Valhalla).

Each evening, I walk out to roll down the sides of the hoop building, make sure the irrigation wasn't accidentally left on, and close the entry door properly.  I usually walk into the building and perform a cursory inspection to make sure all is well.

Then, I trudge back towards the Poultry Pavilion to deal with the hens, or some other task.

I do typically notice the sunset each evening, when it is visible.  Sometimes I regret that I don't have the camera with me.  Every so often, I try to capture an image with the phone, which usually results in my regretting even more that I didn't just go get the camera.

But after a long day, I might only have enough energy to give the setting sun a polite nod as I go about my business.  

Yes, you are wonderful and I see you there.  I promise I'll pay more attention next time.

Well, next time came and I had the camera.  I even played around a bit with the settings to get the colors of the sky to stand our more.  My eyes did not see things quite this way, with the foreground dark and shadowed and a ball of fire in a colorful sky.  If my eyes could dim the trees, grasses and bushes in the foreground, I suspect I would have seen the color of the sky as you see it here.

Either way, I enjoyed the view when it happened and I get to enjoy in a slightly different way as I look at the images I captured.  I hope you can enjoy them as well.

Have a good day everyone.