Entitled to What?

 

My siblings and I attended Emerson Hough Elementary in Newton, Iowa, and I recall being taught at least a little bit about who Emerson Hough (1857-1923), the school's namesake, was.  He was a person with many callings: teacher, lawyer, outdoorsman, writer, and conservationist.  Hough was born in Newton, graduated from the Newton schools, and went on to publish several novels.  Two of these (The Covered Wagon and North of Thirty-Six), were turned into screenplays - becoming popular silent films.

Newton, itself, was established in 1846 and had just been incorporated as a city during the year of Hough's birth (1857).  In a way, Emerson Hough was, perhaps, the first Newton-born settler to reach some level of fame.  Though, I am afraid we'll never know how Hough would have stacked up against the generations of native sons and daughters who came before as members of the Ioway.  Yet, if we look at white culture in the United States, Hough did do things worthy of recognition.

So, the school I attended was named after him.  The building was put up in 1927, so Hough was no longer alive for the building's naming.  I suspect it was not something he had asked for, but it happened nonetheless.

I got started on this topic because someone I know was sharing an article on social media and I decided I should at least look at it.  I read the first few lines and quickly skimmed the rest - rapidly giving it up as a bad cause.

The author started out the whole thing by saying they had donated millions of dollars to an institution and had a wing of a building named after them.  This had been several years ago.  But now, this person wanted special dispensation by the college to do something else.  What followed was essentially a rant about a topic that will not be mentioned here.

So, why do I bring it up?

I want to ask you this:  

If you give a gift to someone, or some organization, what does that entitle you to?

If I give a gift to a sibling's child, does that mean that I should expect - and maybe demand - their love and adoration in return?

If I donate money to the local food bank, do I expect them to cook a special meal or two for me in the future?

If this person donated money and wanted to have their name placed on a sizable chunk of a building, that's another thing altogether.  All I can say is they got more return than a gift merits.  Not because a gift is not worthy of recognition.  No.  It's because a gift is not a gift if you expect a return from it.  

This person bought publicity, personal achievement, and glory by purchasing a place to have their name prominently placed for as long as that building stands.  And now, this person wants more, solely on the basis that they gave a gift...once upon a time.

So, what are we entitled to if we give a gift - if anything?

I know that I like to receive some acknowledgement, if only to confirm that the gift was received.  And, I might admit that it means more to me if the friend, relative, or other individual to whom I gave a gift lets me know they do appreciate what they received.... assuming they actually did (please don't lie about it!). 

And, for those rare moments when I actually surprise you (and me) that I found something you really like, I do actually really enjoy hearing that you still like to use it, or look at it, or whatever.  But, I don't expect any other sort of return.  It's just nice to know that you like it, that's all.

And, when it comes to donations...  well, I always have to wonder a bit when a person seems to need to see their name in print, or receive other accolades in return for something that is supposed to be a gift.  And, I definitely have a problem when that person starts feeling like they are owed more in return for those same "gifts."

In fact, many charitable programs fall into this trap themselves by listing donors - in order from biggest donations to smallest - as if the $10 donation from a person who makes less than minimum wage is worthy of less praise than a person who donated $10,000 and for whom that 10 grand was a tiny percent of the money available to them.  

You know.  A nice list of people who donated is good enough, by way of a thank you, without highlighting who has money and who does not - don't you think?  Unless, of course, this IS a transaction.  And, if it is, let's stop calling it charity and call it for what it is.  

Then we can clearly delineate in the contract where the service being purchased starts...and where it ends.

Meanwhile, I still like the idea that I went to a school named after Emerson Hough - a person who appears to have embraced life-long learning, had an affinity for the natural word, and liked to write.  It helps that I suspect the naming of the school was not transactional in nature.  Instead, the people of the town looked at someone who had come from there and done some pretty cool things.  It's a gift that goes a couple of ways - it tells the descendants of Emerson Hough that some people thought he did pretty well in the world.  And it encourages elementary students to consider what others have done before them and to think about what they might want to go on to do.

I can live with that.

Pushing at the Edges - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to this week's Postal History Sunday entry on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  Everyone is welcome here in this corner of the internet where I explore a hobby I enjoy and share it with those who have anywhere from a passing interest to those with a passion for the subject.

It's time to put on the fuzzy slippers and grab a favorite beverage or snack.  Always be careful of your food and drink around the paper collectibles (and your keyboard).  Let's see where this week's entry takes us!

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One of my attractions to postal history is that it provides opportunities to learn and to expand my own knowledge and understanding within postal history and of the world around me.  A couple of weeks ago, I explored how I can dig deeper into something I actually know very well.  In that blog, titled With This Ring, I illustrated how my understanding for the use of a particular postal marking has become more complete over time.  I might have had sufficient understanding before, but now I can say I know that topic much more completely and with much more depth.

I also find myself pushing at the edges of the breadth of my knowledge.  After all, I will be the first to admit that there are many subject areas within the hobby where my only expertise is my ability to use basic tools for research and learning.  But, I am always probing and expanding on what I know - and I thought I would share some of those edges in today's Postal History Sunday.

Postal services beyond letter mail

I will readily admit that most of my collection, and therefore, a significant portion of my expertise, lies with the mailing of items that qualified as letter mail.  In itself, that area has plenty to explore and plenty to enjoy.  However, people have long mailed packages and newspapers, which have some characteristics that are unique to them.  And, there are additional services that could be applied to letter mail and packages, such as registration and insurance.

At first glance, the envelope shown above looks like so many other pieces of letter mail.  It has two postage stamps that have been cancelled with a grid of dots, shaped like a diamond - each with the numeral "2177" in the middle.  There is a postmark at the top left that shows us it was mailed from Malaucène, France on October 15, 1867 and the address panel tells us that the destination is Nîmes (also in France).  

I had two clues that told me this was not a typical piece of letter mail when I first saw it.  One should be fairly easy for everyone to spot.

It's in bright red ink and it does stand out.  Even if you did not know that it was something different, it calls attention to itself.  The other thing that I noticed (and you might not have) was that the amount of postage was not an amount that a regular internal letter in France would require in 1867.

Part of the knowledge I do own with respect to French internal mail is this rate structure.  A piece of letter mail might have 20 centimes, 40 centimes, 80 centimes, 160 centimes (and increments of 80 centimes from there).  This letter has 60 centimes of postage, which tells me something different is going on and I need to explore further.

But, wait!  There's more!

The back of this envelope also shows some characteristics that are not common for letter mail of the time.  Apparently, red wax was liberally applied to the envelope flap's seal to the rest of the envelope.  And, there is a box marking that I usually don't see.

I did, at the point I first saw this item, have some familiarity with what is called a lettre charge’.  For the U.S. equivalent, we can look to registered mail.  Something like this from 1918:

The three cent stamp paid the regular letter mail postage and the ten cent stamp paid for the registration service.  There is a purple box that indicates that the item is registered and it includes a registry number to aid in the tracking of this item as it traveled through the mail.  Essentially registry was a way to attempt to provide additional security when someone mailed items of value by paying the postal service to track it more carefully than a normal letter.

This was also true for lettres charge’ in France, just like the 1865 item shown below:

This wrapper carried an official court summons to a local address.  We see the red Charge' marking once again and there are thirty centimes in postage.  Ten centimes to pay the discounted rate for the local letter mail and twenty cents to pay for the "registry fee."  But, this item does not have the box on the back like our new item does.

Let me remind you what the first envelope in question looks like...

It turns out there is a step beyond registry - and that would be postal insurance to protect against loss. And there were two options at the time (1867) in France:

1.  valeurs cotée (insurance for a value assigned after inspection by the postal clerk)
   
2.  valeur déclarée (insurance value declared by the sender, but not confirmed by the postal clerk)
   

Our new item is an example of valeur déclarée - and it turns out figuring the cost of such an item requires a slightly different understanding than regular letter mail.

The cost is split into three parts:

1. A special postal rate that is calculated based on weight
2. A flat additional fee of 20 centimes (the registry fee)
3. Payment for insurance to cover the declared value of the item being sent.
   

Only the first two could be paid with postage stamps.  The third cost was paid in cash to the postal clerk.

The "charge box" on the back gives us some of the information we need to calculate the postage required.  Note first that the number "2177" is at the left.  This is the number assigned to the Malaucène post office and it matches the number in the cancellation on the stamps (cool, eh?).  The weight is written in the first two columns in grams (gr) and centigrams (c.).  So, the weight of this item is 10.2 grams.

This table shows us the special postage rates for this type of item - and since this weighed more than 10 grams, it would have cost 40 centimes in postage PLUS the flat registry fee of 20 centimes.

Total postage cost = 60 centimes, which matches the stamps shown on the front of the envelope!  So, far so good!

But how much insurance did this person take out on the contents?

Well, that is actually written on the front side of the cover and on the left of the envelope.  It reads "quattres cents francs," which translates to "four hundred francs."

The rate for insurance was 10 centimes for every 100 francs in declared value.  So, the sender would have had to pay 40 centimes for the insurance in addition to the 60 centimes in postage stamps.

And this is part of where I was lost for some time.  You see, I am used to seeing the word "franco" on letter mail during the period - and that essentially means "paid."  And, I am also used to postage and costs being rated in terms of centimes or decimes in France.  For a long time, I thought this read "4 centimes paid," which made no sense and it took me down all sorts of wrong paths! 

You see, according to references the minimum cost for valeur déclarée was 10 centimes - and amounts could only change in 10 centime increments.  Which made me wonder if it was valeurs cotée - where the cost was a percentage of the determined value.  This is where past knowledge can blind you, at least momentarily, to the truth of the matter.  It did not even occur to me that this was equivalent to someone in the US writing "four hundred dollars,"  and I was not even thinking that they would write the declared value on the envelope instead of the cost of the insurance.

And that, my friends, is how you push the edges of your understanding out just a little bit further.

I can get this from Denmark to France, but...

And here is an example of a postal history item that is pushing the borders of my knowledge today.  This letter is from Christiania, Norway (now known as Oslo) to Bordeaux, France.  The letter was mailed in July of 1852 and was taken via Denmark, Hamburg, the Thurn & Taxis mail system, and then entered France at the border with Belgium.

I can tell you that the big, black "11" marking on the front indicates that 11 decimes were due to pay for the postage to get the letter from Denmark to Bordeaux.  I can tell you this rate was effective from August 1, 1849 until February 28, 1854 and the rate was 11 decimes for every 7.5 grams in weight, payable when the recipient received the letter.

I can also tell you that this letter was prepaid from Christiania to the border of Denmark!

The docket at the lower left on the front reads "fco dansk grandse," which essentially translates to "paid to the Danish border."  So, the sender paid SOME of the postage to get it part way to its destination.  The recipient paid to get this item FROM the border to Hamburg and then to France.

But, I can't tell you with the knowledge I have HOW we get from Christiania to Hamburg.  I can't tell you how much the sender paid to get the letter that far.  I do not know what the rate structure was for mail from Norway at the time and I don't know what time periods these rates were effective.  I think the weight unit used was the "lod" in Norway, but that's about it. 

And, I have no idea what the marking shown below might be for - or if it is important to reading the story as to how this letter traveled from here to there.

There are all sorts of barriers that could encourage me to just accept what I know now as a "good enough" explanation.  It is likely the best resources for my answers are written in Norwegian or Danish, and I know neither.  Most places that I go to look for information show very little for the Nordic and Danish postal systems, so I have far less familiarity with the area as a whole.

But, this has not stopped me before.  There was a time that I wasn't even sure how to figure out a basic letter in France - and now I can tell something does not fit the standard letter rates by just looking at it.

This is another example of how I keep pushing the edges of what I know - and it leads to even more edges to explore.

One more edge

It turns out that I am often pushing at more than one of the edges of my hobby at any given time.  Sometimes, if progress just doesn't seem to be happening, I will set an item aside until I get the desire to push again.  Shown above is just such an item.

This is an envelope mailed at Oudewater, Holland to Arnhem (also Holland).  There are no postage stamps, just a big blue label at the bottom left.  

My basic understanding is that this is a letter that came along with a package.  In this case, there is actually reference to TWO packages.  If you look at the top, you can see the words "met 2 pakken" - "with two packages."  And, if you look closely, you will see the word "franco" on the third line, that tells me the postage was pre-paid - I presume for the packages and the envelope.  It was mailed at the railway station (Spoor) and taken by train from one location (Oudewater) to the next (Arnhem).

But, that is where my knowledge ends.  I have never really looked at this type of item before, though I seem to recall glancing over an article about these Dutch labels once in my lifetime.  

This is how it begins - maybe we'll see some progression one day if I write about it again in a Postal History Sunday.

Bonus Material

I realize I might have left you hanging with a couple of questions earlier and I thought I would give you a little more here - at the end of the blog.

Why all of that red wax?

Postal services used various ways to illustrate that the seal for a registered (or insured) letter had not been broken.  One way was to place postal markings at each seal location - like this:

Notice the purple markings state the item is "registered" and they are placed where the back flap of the envelope seals the envelope closed.  If this marking did not line up, that would be an indication that the letter had been opened.  The red wax served a similar purpose.  It was an attempt to illustrate that no one had opened the envelope prior to delivery.

What other information is held in the charge box?

I have already mentioned the post office number at the left and the weight of the item in grams and centigrams in the first two columns.  The remaining columns under the word "Cachets" are something I am not quite sure I fully understand myself.  Laurent Veglio, who has expertise in French postal history, tells me that "cachets" refers to "seals," and the columns stand for quantity (nom), color, and design.  

The next step is to understand the scrawls in those boxes and how they relate to this particular envelope.  Once I push that edge a little further out, I'll let you all know in a future Postal History Sunday!

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Thank you for taking the time and allowing me to share with you something I enjoy.  I hope you picked up some new tidbit of knowledge and/or that you found your time visiting me here to be pleasantly spent.  

Have a great remainder of your day and a fine week to come!

Critter Criterion

I admit that Tammy and I do not always manage to take pictures every time we see a different critter on the farm, but we have come up with a few decent photos over the years.  It is a testament to a couple of things that I think I am justifiably proud of.

1. Both of us do a reasonably good job of paying attention to the world and ecosystem around us at the Genuine Faux Farm.
2. I think we do a reasonably good job of providing some diverse habitat that is welcoming to more species than some.
   

Of course, we are always trying to do better on both counts.  In fact, that is part of the reason that I believe we are doing pretty well - we are both seeking to continue to better ourselves and improve the ways we can be observant and supportive to the various creatures that call our farm their home.  If we just spent time patting ourselves on the back for our amazing accomplishments (bleah), then we'd be both hypocritical and ineffective.

I have to admit that there is some tension that comes with all of this.  For example, I recognize that not everyone is all that fond of spiders - despite all the good they do for us in this world.  And, I will admit that walking into a spider's web while doing night-time chores is the ONLY way to get me to try out new dance moves.  By the same token, many folks have a problem with snakes - and I realize that comes with the fact that some of them know full well how to protect themselves in ways that could be hurtful to us.

Even the conehead shown above can bring about a little... shall we say... ambivalence, when it comes to our feelings about them.  Coneheads are not necessarily a pest for our crops, nor are they a beneficial, feeding on grassy plants (and some of them are opportunists as far as their diet is concerned).

I also admit that we look more kindly at the tiny tree frog that has been known to sit on our soap bottle resting near the basement sink than we would a spider sitting in the same place.  Tammy even got to be serenaded by a little tree frog that came in with some of our houseplants the previous winter.

Even so, there is a bit of tension when it comes to our willingness to share habitat.  And, I think that is a natural feeling - but it is one many of us need to suppress, or, at least, tone down a bit.  It is this attitude - the animals and critters go over there and the people get to be over here - that leads us to continue to take away the opportunity to live that other species should be given.  If each and every one of the 7 plus billion people have the attitude that "animals and critters are fine...as long as they aren't near me," it leaves next to NO space for any other species.  And it's worse than that because humans can't seem to stay on their side of the room.

Humans draw the line, then they cross it.  Then they redraw the line.  And cross it again.

And this is why I find myself working harder to accept co-existence whenever I can in my habitat.  Yes, I would draw the line on termites living in the house.  I am not overly fond of Buffalo gnats and would be happy if a bunch of Barn Swallows moved in to munch as many of them as they can.

But, I hope you notice that I am looking for nature to provide some of the remedy, rather than me reaching for a fogger and resorting to non-discriminating pesticides.   

Part of what is required of me (and you) is some patience while nature does its thing.  An abundance of a pest that has a natural enemy will, eventually attract that natural enemy - as long as you haven't already eradicated that natural enemy.  This is exactly why it is so hard for growers who have used insecticides to give them up.  Often the insecticides have also reduced the predator population.

The cycle then becomes clear.  You decide to stop with the pesticides.  The pest, which usually has MORE reproductive cycles in a season than the predators, sees an opportunity and the population explodes.  Your crops suffer and that REALLY makes it hard to stick with the program.

Meanwhile, the predators - once again assuming you haven't killed them all already - work their way back.  The feast that is the burgeoning pest population provides a boom cycle for the predators and they eventually catch up, if we allow that to happen.

Yes, it's inconvenient for us - because we really hate to have reduced crop yields for a few seasons while things balance back out.  I feel that - because I have LIVED through it.

And, yes, I recognize that I have attempted to simplify one of the most grand and complex things - the natural world.  But, we can't let that complexity push us to simplify by removing all of that diversity.  That would be very sad and very bad...

...and there would be so much less to behold and appreciate in this world.

Change of Pace

Welcome to Friday.  And, since it is Friday, we'll do something a little different.

I wonder if other people are noticing some of the same things I've been noticing about myself over the past couple of years.  So, in order to find out - I kind of have to share some of the things I've been noticing...

So, do any of these things sound familiar to you?  And if so, how do you address these things - or do you think they need to be addressed?

1. I'm avoiding "tension" in the fiction books I read

Ok.  Let me be clear here.  I do like to read, but I haven't been reading as much as I used to.  And when I do read, I tend to favor books I have already read.

This is the part where you ask the question "Why?" 

Wee pause for a second....so you can ask "Why?"

Well, I'm glad you asked.  Anyway, I assume you asked "why" because... well, how can you ignore a request given as a caption to a cute baby picture of the Sandman?

Anyway, most excellent fiction thrives by putting the characters through moments of tension and trial.  Authors often take the story to bleak and difficult places and the story (especially if you like the fantasy genre) often explores the limits of how bad things can get, while still allowing some of the characters to survive so you can continue until the end when - hopefully - there is redemption and renewal.

Over the past five or six years, I have found that I no longer have the capacity to handle the stress, even though I know it is fictional.  In short, I am finding too many parallels to the world I live in.  So, I end up reading a book I have already read, because there is no longer uncertainty in my mind as to how things will end.  I can read through the low spots knowing there is light at the end of the tunnel. 

It's gotten to the point that I have started some books and have been enjoying them immensely - and I put them down when the going gets rough.  And I haven't found the energy to pick them back up again.

Yeah.  I suppose I could read the last chapter to come to some sort of assurance that I can find some resolution, but I don't even do that.   

How about you?  Have you noticed this about yourself lately?  Or is it just me?

2. I'm forgetting how face to face interactions are supposed to work

Yes.  I am exaggerating just a bit.  But, I have noticed that there is a stronger sense of unease - even with people I know well.

Now - full disclosure.  As a quiet person who tends to be more introverted than most, I have always maintained a bit more personal space and I do tend to listen more than I talk - unless it is my JOB to speak.  So, in many ways, my personality type is better suited to some of the isolation we've all had to deal with for a couple of years now.

But now, I find myself taking time to process even things that used to be automatic, like accepting a handshake.  I will say that it can get pretty awkward when two people have their hands extended half-way to each other and each person has a far-away look in their eyes that tells you that they are wondering, "Is it a good idea to shake hands with this person?  What if they aren't ready to do that?"

And then there is the moment when both parties realize they've been standing there in complete and utter indecision.  Now they have to deal with the awkward moment of trying to figure out how to navigate ALMOST shaking hands.

And, I am noticing people (including myself) are having a harder time figuring out how much eye contact is appropriate.

On the other hand, I have noticed that people are more willing to share "bigger and more important" things earlier in a conversation now - there is less preamble with small-talk, which suits me just fine.  But, I sense unease in others who do prefer more of a lead up to things.

Departures have gotten even less easy.  Even people who are usually pretty good at defining ends to conversations and saying "good-byes" are struggling with the issue of how to come to the conclusion of a discussion.

I am sure we all know some of the reasons for this.  If you are like me, you've been in more video conference calls than you ever thought you would be in EVER.  And, if you are like me, it's actually a fairly big part of your employment.  There is no way you can be involved in that much "virtual" social interaction without it impacting how you see ALL types of social interaction.

How about you?  Are you noticing this too?

Well, thanks for dropping by and reading this blog post.

It was nice "seeing" you here.

I hope you have a good day.

Well, bye... I guess.

Take care.

Um....yeah.

Almost Without Exception

I now have many years worth of digital photos of the farm and farm related things.  This wealth of one particular resource has its blessings and it has its... non-blessings.  For example, if I am looking for some picture in particular for whatever reason, I am beginning to find that I am spending far more time than I should looking for it.

Yes, yes.  I know I should spend some time organizing the photos so I can find things quicker.  But, let me ask you this - have YOU organized all of those photos on your phone?  Or have you gone through all of the old photo albums you keep saying you want to look at and organize?  No?  Me too.

Yet there is value in searching.  Some of that value comes in the form of new learning.  Some in the form of relearning something that has been learned before.  And, sometimes, you come to a realization that things have changed or stayed the same - and those changes and non-changes are worth pondering.

The photo on the left is from the Fall of 2012 and it shows us setting up our table at the Saturday Waverly Farmers' Market - likely a September morning.  And, our tomatoes were coming in full force!

At that time we would tout that we grew anywhere from 20 to 40 different heirloom tomatoes each and every season.  And, because of our farm's soil and location, we typically had a stronger late harvest than early harvest (this changed as we added high tunnels).

We would feature our heirloom tomatoes prominently, offering chances for people to taste each type if they wanted.

On days like this, it would not be unusual to have fifteen to twenty different varieties on our table for people to choose from.  Each tray would hold an average of 20 (usually more) pounds of tomatoes and we would bring somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty trays.  That's 600 pounds of tomatoes for those of you keeping track at home.  

On top of that, we would often have a few boxes with "seconds" - tomatoes that were not top market quality, but still perfectly useful - that we would sell at bulk prices to people who wanted to can, make sauces, or whatever...

And, of course, we would have some other veggies as well to complement the tomatoes, like fall lettuce.  Sadly, our bacon and mayonnaise trees were usually not ripe at the same time - but that's how it is sometimes.

I will report that we often did pretty well on these days - at least in comparison to other market days.  But, we would usually still be going home with about half of the tomatoes, unless the food bank dropped by and would take a batch of the remaining tomatoes.  The problem there was that they were "allergic" to any tomato that was not red - so those stayed with us.  Their loss, I guess, but we also had more at home, so it wasn't exactly a big positive from our perspective.

 After markets like this, we would combine partially loaded trays with other partial trays and compress how things went back into the truck.  If you failed to do that, the tomatoes would roll around inside the trays and you might be a bit unhappy with their condition (and the condition of the inside of the truck) when you got back home.  This would take some time, so we were often the last to get packed up at the end of the market day.

And, without fail, there would always be someone who would pull up as we put the last thing into the truck and say something along the lines of...

"Oh shoot!  We missed the market and we were soooooo  looking forward to it.  I don't suppose you have any tomatoes (or some other veggie) that we could still buy?"

You would think that after this had happened many times before, we would politely decline.  But, we always said yes (as long as we had what they requested).

Then, one of us would climb into the truck (usually me) and pull things out - even if it was a huge pain to do - and we would show them what we had.

Almost without exception one of the following would happen:

1. The person would inspect, prod and mumble and finally select ONE tomato - and after a little more prodding, maybe select a second one, and pay.... with a big bill so we would then have to go find our change box again.
   
2. The person would ask us, after we had gone to the extra work to pull things out, if we would give them a discount.  After all, market was done and we should be grateful to make one more sale - even if it was at a quarter the asking price.
3. The person would sigh and say, "Are any of these 'Better Boys?'  They're not?  Well, I don't want any then."

Please don't take this wrong.  We are both people who like to be helpful.  We prefer to be kind.  If you are interested enough in stopping and asking for something specifically from us and we have it, we'd love to accommodate.  So, we found ourselves going through these motions even with the knowledge of how it was likely to turn out.

And sadly, we often found ourselves regretting that we had tried to accommodate.  And that's kind of sad.

But, I DID say "almost without exception."

There were a couple of cases where the person(s) who stopped us and benefited from our extra effort recognized what we were doing.

Once, the person did not buy much - because they did not need much.  But, they made it clear that they were so grateful to get some fresh produce and that they understood it had taken us extra effort to do so.  This individual was not physically able to help us re-load, but they wanted to do something to help if they could.  

The honest and heartfelt recognition of our extra efforts was enough.  And they were able to tell us at a different market that they had enjoyed tasty BLT sandwiches thanks to our product (even if we didn't have bacon and mayonnaise in our truck). 

The other time that I specifically recall honest recognition is when an individual said, with sincerity - but not much fanfare - "I know this is not correct change.  Please keep the extra to pay for your additional effort on my behalf.  Thank you."

And, on top of that, we saw BOTH individuals at the next farmers' market.  Rewarding our extra effort with continued patronage.

Today's challenge?  Be the exception.  Recognize the effort someone makes on your behalf.  Let them know you appreciate it and recognize the value.

Have a great day everyone!

Scarred Once Again

A strange thing has been happening more and more often over the past couple of years.  I think of something and it leads me to this odd feeling that... I've thought about this thing - and written about - before.   Sometimes, I actually try to remember exactly what I wrote about the topic and I try to find it.  Part of the reason is to monitor how I have grown.  Or maybe to see if I have grown at all.... perhaps I have regressed.  I only hope I can tell the difference.

Let me start by sharing this April, 2020 post, initially titled Scarred.

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I took a quick walk around the farm and passed by the field where we grew potatoes last year.  To dig potatoes, we use an undermining implement to dig a trench and bring the potatoes up so we can harvest them with a little less effort.  The wet Fall found us digging some of the rows quite late, so we couldn't really do anything else with the field.  So, as I walked by, I could still see the trenches that were created during the harvesting process.  The earth was still scarred from the process of harvesting what turned out to be a reasonable, if not bounteous, harvest.  

I found myself remembering the efforts that went into planting, cultivating, mulching and harvesting this crop.  And, as we ate a couple of potatoes from this field tonight, I found my gratitude for the earth's gift growing.  It made me want to work even harder to "do right" by the soil that provided and it got me to think a little bit differently about being scarred.

Many years ago, I made the mistake of trying to catch a pile of falling drywall and injured my wrist.  To make a long story shorter, I had a major surgery a year later that required pins to hold the wrist in place.  After several weeks of recovery, the day came to have the pins removed.  Being a person who isn't terribly fond of blood or open wounds, I figured I'd handle it by looking away.  Instead, I ended up watching as the doctor took what was a normal pliers you might find in your own tool box to pull out each pin.  Today, I can look at my wrist and see the puckered area that covers the spot where those pins penetrated my skin.

My skin is scarred and it brings back the memories of the injury, the failed attempts to rehabilitate, the surgery and the eventual recovery to nearly full mobility.  But, more than that, the scar represents key learning that makes me who I am today.  This scar is a reminder of things that are precious.  This scar reminds me that there are people who will do wonderful things to help you to heal and be better than you are right now.  This scar reminds me that a trial can lead to growth.

And all of that reminds me to have hope.

Not my X-ray - it's just here to make the point.

With the current pandemic raging in our world, I find that I have spent more time putting out blog posts that I hope are encouraging and useful.  I have always hoped that I could use my modest skills as a writer and farmer to be a useful voice for a few people that might need it. 

But, I also find that I grow frustrated with the speed that the online world heals over.  It seems to ignore or move past anything each of us might do or say after a very short period of time.  As I contemplated this thought, I realized that this is not simply an online phenomenon, it's the way humans have worked for as long as they have been on this earth.  We have memories, but they are selective and limited.  We have recollections, but they are known to be faulty.  We have images of the past, but we don't always connect them to useful learning or appropriate change.  More often than not, they fail to leave a scar.  We have perfect skin in our remembrance, but that doesn't build the character that makes us better versions of ourselves.

I want some of the things that have been written here (or elsewhere) or spoken by me to become a scar that reminds you of something important, or something that helps you to move forward to something better, or reminds you to do your best and not give up.   In fact, it does not matter if I was the source of that scar - as long as it comes from somewhere.

May you find some music, a piece of prose or poetry, a sunrise or a flower, a kind word from someone you love ... something...

Something that scars you.  And makes you better than you were. 

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And now - we are back to the present day.  Or, at least, February 22, 2022 - the day I am writing this update around the edges of the old post.

I found that this piece had actually scarred me when I wrote it - and I carry that scar with me every day I write a new blog post.

As I read the older post, I rediscovered the reasons I continue to write and share on a nearly daily basis.  I have learned that the ways we communicate in this world too often accentuate hopelessness, helplessness, despair, fear, mistrust, aggression, depression, misinformation, and content where useful detail is removed in order to mislead.

My scar reminds me that I write in hopes that I can provide a little hope, be of help, and provide a small light beyond despair.  While I am a flawed human with my own share of fear and mistrust, I still write to remind us all that we can and should work to overcome fear and to trust again.  I can share what I understand with integrity, and by doing so, perhaps I encourage one other - or two others.  And they encourage one or two.  

This scar and the lessons that came with it encourage me to keep going until the day comes that new learnings from newly acquired scars tell me to move on.

Until that day... I wish you and yours well - by writing and sharing with you.

Recipes for Greens

We are continuing to offer up recipes that have been housed on our Genuine Faux Farm website for several years by placing them into blogs.  We hope you will enjoy some of them as we share them, yet again - just in a different forum.  For those that suggested we add some more recipes to what is here - that is not for us to do.  We are merely making sure that the things we have offered in the past do not just disappear (at least for as long as our blog lives).

This week, we offer recipes for a range of different greens!

Storage for most greens – wrap in lightly damp paper towel and store in sealed plastic container or bag in the fridge.  Will keep for up to 2 weeks.

Handling – Just prior to use, swish leaves in a large basin of cool water until any remaining dirt settles to the bottom. It’s fine to leave the stems on small baby greens, but many greens (choi, chard, collards, kale) have thick stems that cook more slowly than the leaves. Fold each leaf in half and slice out the stem. To use the stems in your dish, slice them 1/4 inch long and begin cooking them before you add the greens.when ready to use, rinse leaves and shake or pat dry.  Pull out yellowed or browned and wilted leaves and put into compost.

Bright Lights Swiss Chard

Wilted Greens

3 tablespoons butter
1 large bunch Swiss chard, stems cut from leaves and discarded, leaves torn
1 large bunch mustard greens, stems trimmed, leaves torn
1 10-ounce bag spinach leaves
1/3 cup chicken stock or canned low-salt chicken broth

Melt butter in heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Add all greens and stock. Cover and cook until greens wilt, stirring occasionally, about 3 minutes. Uncover; cook until juices thicken slightly, about 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Makes 4 servings.

Lunchtime Pok Choi Fried Rice

• 2 tsp peanut oil, divided
• 2 tsp sesame oil, divided
• ¼ cup diced carrots
• 1 cup diced pok choi
• 1 ½ cup leftover cooked rice (chilled or room temp)
• ½ cup leftover cooked diced lamb, beef, pork or poultry
• ½ tsp minced ginger
• 3 tsp chopped green onion
• 1 egg
• Bottled chili garlic paste (optional)
• 1 ½ tbs soy sauce

Heat a wok or cast-iron skillet over medium-high flame a few minutes.  Add 1 tsp each of the peanut and sesame oils; swirl to coat bottom of pan.  Add carrots; stir-fry 2 minutes.  Add pok choi; stir-fry 2 minutes.  Push vegetables to outer edges of pan, add remaining peanut oil and swirl to coat exposed surface.  Add rice, meat and ginger; stir-fry 2 – 3 minutes.  Stir in the green onion.  Push the mixture to the outside edges of the pan, add the remaining sesame oil to the center of the pan and swirl to coat exposed surface.  Crack egg into the hot oil and scramble it.  Cook until egg is set, then break up egg into pieces and toss it with the rest of the mixture in the pan.  Add a little chili garlic paste if desired and stir in the soy sauce.  Continue to stir-fry another moment or two, scraping all bits from the bottom of the pan.  Serve hot.  Makes 2 servings.

Joi Choi

Arugula Pesto

1 lb. Arugula
¼ lb. freshly grated Parmesan cheese
¼ 1b. toasted pine nuts of walnuts
10 cloves garlic
1 c. olive oil
1 tsp. pepper
salt to taste

Puree until smooth.  Serve on a sandwich, use it as a vegetable dip or mix into a potato salad.

Arugula Mayonnaise

1/2 cup mayonaisse
1/3 cup coarsely chopped arugula leaves
1 T minced leek or shallot
1 T minced fresh parsley
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon peel
Mix ingredients together.  Use on turkey sandwiches.  Refrigerate and use within a week.

Arugula, Watermelon Radish, and Sauteed Mushroom Salad
Large bunch of arugula, coarse stems discarded and the leaves washed well and spun dry (about 4 packed cups)
1 cup thinly sliced mushrooms, lightly sauteed in a bit of oil or butter and cooled
1 cup grated radish (daikon works well if available)
1 ½  tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
fresh lemon juice from one lemon
Parmesan curls made with a vegetable peeler
Salt and pepper to taste

Combine the arugula, mushrooms and radish, drizzle the oil over the salad, and toss the salad gently. Toss with the lemon juice and salt and pepper to taste, and serve it topped with the Parmesan. Serves 2 to 3. 

Red Russian Kale & Vates Collards

Swiss Chard Standard Preparation

Swiss chard can be treated just like any other green. Larger leaves have stronger flavor that often lose sharpness when cooked. Chard can be eaten with or without the stems and will brighten up a salad.

Swiss Chard with Garlic

3 pounds Swiss chard (about 2 large bunches)
1 large garlic clove
1 tablespoon olive oil

Tear Swiss chard leaves from thick white stalks and coarsely chop leaves, reserving stalks. In a large saucepan or kettle of boiling salted water simmer stalks until tender, 5 to 10 minutes, and drain in a colander. Chard may be prepared up to this point 1 day ahead, stalks cooled completely and leaves and stalks chilled separately in sealable plastic bags.

Mince garlic. In a large skillet heat oil over moderate heat until hot but not smoking and cook garlic, stirring, 30 seconds. Add leaves in 2 batches, tossing to coat with oil and stirring after each addition, and cook until leaves are wilted. Add stalks and cook, stirring occasionally, until heated through. Season chard with salt and pepper. Makes 6 servings.

Penne with Swiss Chard

6 ounces penne or other tubular pasta
1 1/2 pounds Swiss chard
1/4 teaspoon dried hot red pepper flakes
1 small onion
2 teaspoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan

Fill a 4-quart kettle three-fourths full with salted water and bring to a boil for pasta. Chop Swiss chard into 1/4-inch-wide pieces and finely chop separately red pepper flakes and onion. In a 12-inch heavy skillet cook onion in butter over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, about 5 minutes. Add Swiss chard and cook, tirring, 15 minutes, or until tender.

While Swiss chard mixture is cooking, cook pasta in boiling water until al dente and drain in a colander. Add pasta to Swiss chard mixture with red pepper flakes, cream, and nutmeg and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Remove skillet from heat and stir in Parmesan and salt and pepper to taste. Serves 2.

Eggs Nested in Sauteed Swiss Chard
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 pound of fresh chard
2-3 large shiitake mushrooms, sliced into 1/4-inch thick slices
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 eggs

1 Cut out the thick, tough center ribs of the chard leaves. Chop the ribs into 1/2 inch pieces and place in a bowl. Add the chopped onions and mushrooms to the bowl. Cut the remaining chard leaves crosswise into 1-inch ribbons, set aside.
2 Heat the olive oil in a large, stick-free sauté pan (with cover) on medium high heat. Add the onions, chard ribs, and mushrooms. Sauté for about 4 to 5 minutes, until the onions are translucent and the mushrooms are a little brown on the edges and have started to give up their moisture.
3 Add the green sliced chard leaves to the sauté pan. Use tongs to turn the leaves over in the pan so that the leaves get coated with some of the olive oil and the onions and mushrooms are well mixed in with the leaves. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
4 Spread the mixture evenly over the bottom of the pan. Crack one or two fresh eggs in the center of the pan, over the chard mushroom mixture. Lower the heat to low and cover the pan. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, checking after 3 minutes. When the whites are cooked, remove the pan from the heat and use a spatula to gently transfer the eggs and chard to a plate to serve.
Serve immediately. Cut into the egg yolks so that the runny yolks run over the chard and mushrooms and form something of a sauce.
Yield: Serves 1.

Amish Deer Tongue Lettuce

Bread Soup (Panade) with Onions, Chard, and Mushrooms Recipe

Ingredients

• 12-14 ounces day-old rustic bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
• Olive oil
• Salt
• 1 Tbsp butter
• 2 cups thinly sliced onions (sliced vertically, from tip to root)
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 6 to 8 mushrooms (more if you are Hobbits), sliced 1/4-inch thick
• 10 to 12 ounces fresh chard, rinsed
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme (or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme)
• 1/2 cup hearty red wine
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 2 quarts stock (chicken, beef, or vegetable, use vegetable stock for vegetarian option)
• 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Method

1 Pre-heat oven to 350°F. Toss the cubed bread with a little olive oil, sprinkle with a little salt. Arrange bread on a baking sheet and toast for 20-30 minutes (check timing!) or until nicely browned.
2 While the cubed bread is in the oven, prepare the onions. Heat 2 Tbsp olive oil and the butter on medium heat in a 5 to 7 quart Dutch oven. Add the onions, garlic and mushrooms and stir to coat with the butter and oil. Cook gently, stirring occasionally for 5-10 minutes. Add chard stalk, chopped, and sautéed for 3-4 more minutes.
3 Cut away the tough central stems of the chard leaves. Cut across the leaves into 1-inch wide strips.
4 Remove half of the browned onions from the Dutch oven and set aside. Spread the remaining onions evenly over the bottom of the pot. Layer over with half of the chard and half of the browned mushrooms. Sprinkle with pepper, half a teaspoon of salt, and thyme. Put down a layer of toasted bread cubes. Add the remaining onions, chard, and mushrooms. Layer on top the remaining bread cubes.
5 Mix together the honey and wine, until the honey is dissolved. Pour over the bread mixture. Pour the broth over everything.
6 Scatter the top evenly with the grated cheese.
7 Cover the pot with foil (not the lid) and seal it around the edges. Cut 4 or 5 vent holes in the top. Put it in a 350°F oven. Bake for 1 hour 15 minutes. Serve immediately, digging into the layers to get a bit of everything for each portion, or let cool and refrigerate, covered.
To reheat, gently simmer a portion until hot. Plate and garnish with additional cheese and thyme.
Yield: Serves 6.

Collard Green & Black-Eyed Pea Soup

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 large onion, diced
1 large carrot, sliced
1 stalk celery, sliced
5 cloves garlic, (4 sliced and 1 whole), divided
1 sprig fresh thyme
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper, or to taste
4 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth
1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes
5 cups chopped collard greens, or kale leaves, tough stems removed
1 15-ounce can black-eyed peas, rinsed
6 1/2-inch-thick slices baguette, preferably whole-grain, cut on the diagonal
6 tablespoons shredded Gruyère or Swiss cheese
2 slices cooked bacon, finely chopped

Heat oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, carrot and celery and cook, stirring, until just tender, 5 to 7 minutes. Add sliced garlic, thyme and crushed red pepper and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 15 seconds. Increase heat to high and add broth, tomatoes and their juice. Bring to a boil, scraping up any browned bits. Stir in collard greens (or kale), reduce heat to maintain a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the greens are tender, 5 to 10 minutes. Discard the thyme sprig. Stir in black-eyed peas; remove from the heat and cover.
Position rack in upper third of oven; preheat broiler.
Place baguette slices on a baking sheet and broil until lightly toasted, 2 to 4 minutes. Rub each bread slice with the remaining garlic clove. (Discard garlic.) Turn the slices over and top with cheese. Broil until the cheese is melted, 1 to 3 minutes. Serve the soup topped with the cheese toasts and bacon.

Basic Greens with Garlic, Oil & Hot Pepper

• Olive oil
• Garlic, thinly sliced
• Pinch of Crushed red pepper
• Optional: lemon juice, cider vinegar, wine vinegar, balsamic vinegar
• Salt & pepper to taste

Cook a pound of greens (beet greens, collards, kale, mustard greens, spinach, Swiss chard) in lightly salted water just until wilted, 5 to 10 minutes. Drain; press with the back of a spoon to release excess moisture. Heat some olive oil and thinly sliced garlic in a skillet over low heat until the garlic begins to sizzle. Add a pinch of crushed red pepper and cook, stirring, until the garlic is tender and light golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Add greens and toss with the hot oil until heated through, 1 to 2 minutes. Season with a splash of lemon juice or vinegar (cider vinegar, wine vinegar or balsamic), and salt and pepper to taste.

Pasta with Greens & Tomato Sauce

• 1 pound collard greens, (about 12 cups), stripped from thick stems, washed, dried and coarsely chopped (1/2-inch pieces)
• 2 ounces sliced pancetta, or bacon, finely diced (3/4 cup)
• 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper
• 1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes, (not drained)
• 1/4 cup water
• 8 ounces medium pasta shells, (3 cups)
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• Freshly ground pepper, to taste
• 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Bring 2 cups lightly salted water to a boil in a large wide pan. Add collards and cook until tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Drain, rinse with cold water and press out excess moisture. Set aside.
Put a large pot of lightly salted water on to boil for cooking pasta.
Cook pancetta (or bacon) in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat, stirring often, until golden, 5 minutes. Drain; discard fat.
Add oil to the pan and heat over medium heat. Add onion and cook, stirring often, until softened, 3 to 5 minutes. Add garlic and crushed red pepper; cook, stirring, for 30 to 60 seconds. Add the pancetta (or bacon), tomatoes and water; bring to a simmer, mashing the tomatoes with a potato masher or the side of a wooden spoon. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, uncovered, until thickened, about 20 minutes.
About 10 minutes before the sauce is ready, cook pasta in the boiling water, stirring often, until just tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Reserve 1/4 cup of the cooking water and drain the pasta.
Add the pasta, collards and reserved pasta-cooking water to the tomato sauce. Heat, stirring, until the pasta has absorbed some of the flavors, about 1 minute. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon into pasta bowls, sprinkle with cheese and serve.

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Please note that some of these are adapted from recipes either submitted by our CSA members in the past or from web sources that are now defunct.  Others are simply renderings of recipes Tammy has adapted for our own use or just simply created.  Measurements, in general, are suggestions.  Feel free to try a little more of some things and a little less of others, depending on your taste and texture preferences!  The simpler recipes are the ones that often have the most room to play.

Learning Your Place

We humans often have an oversized view as to how important we are.  That's not to say that we don't have an important place in this world.  It's just that we seem to want to overstate things a bit - and we like to push ourselves into the front of the line, so to speak.

That's why taking walks near and in nature can be very important.  It reminds us of our place and the places of so many other wonderful things in this world.

These were not the largest trees on the Kuilau Ridge Trail, and yet we didn't look like much in comparisons to many of the moderate sized specimens on the edge of the trail itself.  In my mind, trees are one of the things that make nature more relatable to a larger percentage of the population of humans.  Most of us have at least encountered a tree or two in our own living environment.  Even most of our large cities have some trees - even if they struggle a bit to grow well in the little wells of dirt encircled by cement.

If we look closely, we can also seen the fine artwork presented by nature.  But, sometimes it seems as if nature recognizes that we can't quite appreciate the subtlety of its beauty - so it offers up patterns we recognize - things that don't seem quite so random to us.

It's almost as if nature is trying to provide us with a "welcome message" in hopes that we can learn to appreciate the world around us without trying to conquer and destroy, as is often the way of the human race.

Nature can take a little bit of practice - like nearly everything else - if you really want to appreciate what it has to offer.  And the good news is that practice opens you up to more and more ways to see the world and its beauty.  Sometimes you have to look up from the pond and its rippling water to see the reflection of those ripples on the rocks above.  Suddenly the immobile appears to move, and sunlight is given a chance to dance for you.

Our place is to observe and to give the natural world space to be what it is - something amazing.  In turn, we may find that we also do better because we are not always facing inward - mesmerized by our own need to be supremely important and ultimately catered to by all else that exists.

First Time for Everything - Postal History Sunday

Every so often, I am reminded that people who are new to Postal History Sunday might be wandering into the room and are wondering what is happening here.  In fact, some folks have been standing in the corner... waiting for me to explain what is going on for a week or so!  Thanks for waiting!

Postal History Sunday is a project I started during the Summer of 2020 in the hopes that it might help others get through stress, isolation and worry during the pandemic.  I was alarmed by the amount of material being shared that was (and is) contributing to the negative feelings of the time and I was saddened by the lack of depth in many online interactions.  In a very small way, I was hoping to provide an oasis where I could explore a hobby I enjoy (postal history) and share it in a way that was interesting, welcoming, and open to all levels of interest - from just a passing curiosity to those who love postal history even more than I do.

And, hey, if you forget about your troubles during the time it takes you to read one of these posts and gives you a little balance in your life - so much the better.

This is the 79th entry in the series that appears each Sunday on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and is cross-posted on the GFF Postal History blog.  I have been posting a new blog nearly every day on the farm blog on a wide range of topics.  You are invited to read them or ignore them.  Your choice.  It's the beauty of this sort of thing.  It will be here if you want it, when you want it - for the foreseeable future.

For now, let's get to the postal history - and for those who are curious as to who I am, read on, I'll give a quick bio at the end.

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As humans, we seem to have more interest in events that happen for the first time.  A child's first steps, a first kiss, the first time you stepped in a cowpie....  Ok, maybe not every "first experience" qualifies here.  But, in philately (stamp collecting) and postal history, we are not immune to paying attention to "firsts."  Today, I thought I would share a few ways we identify items that illustrate beginnings.

First Postage Stamps

Let's start with the "low hanging fruit" with respect to our topic by looking at the first issues of postage stamps.  Most stamp and postal history collectors are well aware of the first issue stamps for most postal issuing entities.  

For example, the folded letter shown above (mailed in the late 1840s or early 1850s) illustrates the five cent denomination issued by the United States Post Office in 1847.  On March 3, 1847, the US Congress authorized the production and use of postage stamps and this issue was made available on July 1 of that same year.  Five cents would pay for a simple letter (no more than 1/2 ounce in weight) to travel up to 300 miles inside the borders of the United States.  This rate was effective from July 1, 1845 to June 30, 1851.  If you are interested in what went on before and immediately after this rate period, you can take the links provided here:  before and after.

The letter shown above was mailed from Baltimore to Annapolis, Maryland - about 33 miles, which is well under the 300 mile limit.  Unfortunately for me, there is no clear indication as to the year date on this folded letter, but it still shows a proper use of the stamp to pay the postal rate.

Now, we should not confuse this stamp with the first postage stamp issued IN the United States.  That distinction belongs to Alexander M. Greig's City Dispatch, a private carrier in New York City, on Feb 1, 1842.  While I do not have an example of that item to show, I was able to show an 1844 issue by Hale and Company here.

The honor of the first postage stamp is given to the Penny Black issued by the United Kingdom in 1840.  While I do not have a piece of postal history to show, I do have an example of the postage stamp.  

If you look closely at this one, you might notice letters at the bottom left and bottom right.  These letters indicated the position of the stamp on the printing plate.  One thing many collectors like to engage in is finding a single copy of this stamp that contains their own initials or the initials of a loved one.  This particular item was a gift my lovely bride looked for over the course of several years until she found one that met her specifications (and her budget) for such a thing.  

If you would like to see the apex of where a collector could take this, go view Chip Gliedman's exhibit titled My Victoria.  He shows an amazing collection of this first design - all bearing the initials "C.G."

Of course, you can hunt for postal history that bears the first postage stamps from other parts of the world.  Below is an 1849 folded letter featuring the 20 centime issue for France - from their first design issued that same year (1849).  And, first issues are not always this old - for example, the first official postage issue by the Ukraine was in 1918.  If this area interests you, check out the First Issues Collectors Club.

First Day for a Postage Rate

A postal historian might appreciate the first issue of a stamp for any number of reasons - but they will also happily hunt for examples that show the first day a new postage rate was put into effect.  I've shown the ugly rooster cover before, but it deserves a place in this blog too!

The postage rate for internal letter mail in the United States had been 3 cents per half ounce since July 1, 1863 and it was not changed until October 1, 1883 - twenty years later.  And, surprisingly, the postage rate actually went DOWN to 2 cents per half ounce.

If you look carefully, you might notice that this item is postmarked on October 1, 1883 - the first day this ugly chicken, and the envelope that carried something from the Aultman & Taylor Company would only require a 2 cent stamp.

Any time there are changes in postal regulations, postal historians have an opportunity to identify items that illustrate the processes of change.  If I had the inclination, I could find an item that was properly mailed at the prior, 3 cent rate, on Sep 30, 1883 - the last day the prior rate was effective.  I could find another item that still had a 3 cent stamp AFTER October 1 because someone was unaware of the postage change.  Maybe I could even find an attempt to pay the 2 cent rate too early?  Who knows?

First Day of Issue

When I was younger, I knew of many people who focused on collecting covers that commemorated the first day a new postage stamp was issued.  These are known as First Day Covers (FDCs).  Below is a simple envelope that is postmarked on May 18, 1925 in Decorah, Iowa.  The Norse-American stamp had a denomination of five cents, which is 3 cents more than was necessary to mail it to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

But, properly paying a postage rate is not typically the main purpose of a First Day Cover.  The main purpose is to illustrate the postal use on the official day of issue - and newer FDCs typically feature artwork that is related to the postage stamp design.  While I do not do much with FDCs, I actually do have one blog that features the Norse-American issue (and the cover above) from November of 2020.  If you have interest in FDCs, you might benefit from viewing the American First Day Cover Society's webpages.  

First Flights

Another way we can look for firsts is by considering the method of transportation by which a letter was transmitted from place to place.  With the event of air mail, collectors were keen to create postal artifacts that commemorated the first flight from one location to another.

The first flight of Foreign Air Mail route number 18 was piloted by Arthur E LaPorte in a Boeing 314 for Pan American Airlines.  As was the case for most mail carried on inaugural flights, this item was clearly created to commemorate the opening of what became known as the “Southern Route" for FAM 18.  The decorative cachet was applied in New York.

If you look carefully, you will notice that the addressee is William Bilden and the SENDER is also William Bilden.  The address is "care of Postmaster" in Marseille, France - which means Bilden intended for this letter to be picked up at the post office.  Of course, Mr. Bilden was NOT in Marseille.  He fully intended that the letter would eventually be returned to him so he could save it as a souvenir from the flight.

Postal clerks were not at all unfamiliar with this strategy employed by collectors.  The envelope was marked "non reclame" on the back to indicate that it was not picked up.  The front includes a marking that reads "retour a l'envoyeur," or "return to sender," with an arrow indicating the address from whence this envelope originally came.

Above is a photo of a Boeing 314, which would be similar to the airplane that carried this envelope across the Atlantic Ocean on this first flight.  If you would like to learn more, you can go to this site, where I found this picture.  I will admit that air mail is NOT my strong suit, but I can find my way around the basics of the subject when a cover demands it of me.

First Sailings

As I've mentioned before, I tend to prefer to collect items that were not sent explicitly to create a piece of memorabilia.  Instead, I like to discover ways that a regular piece of mail might be connected to a story, such as a first flight - or a first sailing.

Shown above is a folded business letter that was mailed in 1869 fro Liverpool, England to Buenos Ayres, Argentina.  A one shilling stamp was placed on the letter to correctly pay the postage - 1 shilling per 1/2 ounce effective from Apr 2, 1866 to Aug 31, 1877.  All in all, it's a decent example of a simple letter from the UK to Argentina during that period.

But, my attention is drawn to the docket at the top left that reads "p Pascal."  During that period of time, it was fairly common for mail to bear the name of the ship on which the letter was intended to depart.  So, if we were curious, we could do a little searching for a ship named Pascal and maybe learn more about it and this letter.

Unidentified Lamport & Holt ship - configured similarly to Pascal

The folded letter is dated April 19, 1869 - the same date as the postmark - in Liverpool.  And, it gives the detail of the intended route "per Pascal str from Liverpool & French Mail via Bordeaux."  However, this is one time you should not believe everything you read.  The Pascal was scheduled to sail to Lisbon, then Rio de Janeiro, Montevideo, and Buenos Ayres - maybe there was also a stop in Bordeaux, but that was not among the major ports listed.  Also, the next ship leaving Bordeaux for the same destinations was not scheduled to depart until April 25, so transferring the letter off of the Pascal would have made no sense.  Instead, I am fairly certain this cover stayed on the Pascal for the entire ocean voyage.

from London Daily News April 21, 1869

Sure enough, a little bit of searching found a London newspaper reporting the departure of the Pascal from Liverpool.  Here we learn that this particular steamship was owned by the Brazil and River Plate Steam Navigation Company (also known as the Lamport & Holt Line).  This gives enough information for me to research that particular ship a little bit further.

My first stop was the Ship's List website which provides us with an overview of the Lamport & Holt Line and a list of ships attributed to that line.   This list includes two Pascals, of which this is the first, with a date of build-date of 1869.  Clearly, this ship was not very old when this letter was carried across the Atlantic.

This is where things get a bit odd.  The detail for the Pascal on the Ship's List indicates that it was built by Andrew Leslie & Company at Hebburn-on-Tyne (UK) - but the launch date is shown as Dec 13, 1869.  Her maiden voyage is listed as April 20, 1870 - a full year LATER than this letter, which clearly shows it was intended to be carried on this ship.  The newspaper clipping seems to correspond with the letter as well.  But, there is still doubt - so I did a little more digging.

The Ship's List lists the book Merchant Fleets by Duncan Haws (vol 34) as the source for its information.  It is possible that the conversion to the website introduced an error or perhaps Haws transcribed the detail for this ship incorrectly from the original source documents.

It turns out there is also a website that tracks all of the Tyne-built ships which uses primary source material such as newspapers, contemporary ship registers and other materials - probably just as Haws does.  This site shows the "launch date" as 13/02/1869 and the date the transfer of ownership to Lamport & Holt as March 22, 1869.  This lines up better with the April 20, 1869 maiden voyage indicated by this piece of postal history and the newspaper article.  Also, it is easy to see how someone might miscopy the 13/02/1869 date as 13/12/1869 (remember Europe typically uses day, month, year order).

In the end, I feel I have confirmed that this letter was carried on the maiden voyage of a new steamship in 1869.

 

Even more interesting is this screen capture from an auction some years ago.  I have removed a few details that might identify the auction company... in fact, I don't even remember which auction company it was anymore, so don't ask.  I came across this the first time I started researching this cover a few years ago.  It is likely that they also were relying on the Ship's List for information.  It is a fine source, so I see nothing wrong with this.

However, as is often the case when a large task with lots of details are undertaken, some things can slip through.  The description of the cover clearly states the postmark is 1869, yet the description of the ship says it sailed in 1870.  If you look to the bottom, the item went unsold - possibly because the special selling point (a first voyage) was in doubt with the different dates.

And now we can bring you to the story of how I came to be the present day caretaker of this particular item.  Unsold individual lots in auctions tend to become parts of group lots in later auctions.  These group lots are purchased by postal history dealers (yes - there are people who do this as a profession!) and they separate items out and price them.  I came across this in that dealer's stock and found the price to be very reasonable and within my budget (which would not have been the case in the auction).

Now, I have re-united this cover with its history.  Or at least, what I feel is a more accurate portrayal of that history.  Hopefully, I got it right.

Hey! There's a first time for everything!

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Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoyed this week's Postal History Sunday.  I promised a quick biography for those who are curious - so here it is!

For those who do not know me, my name is Rob Faux (pronounced "fox") and I have been collecting and learning about postal history since the late 1990s, but I have been a stamp collector most of my life.  My specialty is collecting postal history from the 1850s through 1870s and I really focus on material featuring the 24-cent stamp from the US 1861 issue.

Outside of the hobby, Tammy (my lovely bride) and I own/operate a small-scale, diversified farm (vegetables & poultry).  I also hold a job with the Pesticide Action Network as a part of their Communications Team.  In a prior life, I worked to acquire a Ph.D. in Computer Science and Adult Education, teaching at a couple of different universities for a time.

Our farm, the Genuine Faux Farm, has maintained a blog since 2009.  The companion postal history blog has been active since 2017.  Postal History Sunday started in August of 2020 and will continue for as long as I have energy for the project.

Have a good remainder of your day and have a great week to come!