Author's Choice for 2023 - Postal History Sunday

It is Sunday and it is also the day before the turning of the calendar from 2023 to 2024.  As has been the tradition with Postal History Sunday, I am offering up what I feel are some of the best entries for the past year.  Feel free to take the links to the original articles if the description moves you to do so.  And, of course, if you think I've got it all wrong and there are others that should have made the list, feel free to let me know.

If you look under the image for each article you will find a "trivia" question.  See how many you can answer! Hint - one might find those answers by taking the link for each entry - who didn't see that coming?

Set the troubles aside, grab a favorite beverage and put on the fuzzy slippers. It's time for Postal History Sunday!

People's Choice - The Foolish Desire

1. In addition to his military service during the Civil War, what was J.W. DeForest' primary occupation?

The "People's Choice" award was actually very close this year with no entry running away from the competition.  The interesting thing, for me, was how some blogs clearly appealed to a wider audience - and they weren't always the ones I expected. 

This was actually one of the Postal History Sunday entries this year that was a rewrite of an entry from a couple of years ago.  I've learned more since it first appeared and I know that the best writing is actually re-writing.  The results here seem to back that up.

As far as a preview is concerned, the main focus is on the contents of a letter written by Harriet Silliman Shepherd to Erastus DeForest during the American Civil War.  This Postal History Sunday ranges far and wide, including bull fighting, fancy cancellations, and the chi square distribution.  Yes, you read that right.  We take our mathematics seriously here too.

11.  One Thing Leads to Another and Another Thing Leads to Another

2. What was the purpose of an exchange office for foreign letter mail?

While it might seem a bit like I am cheating to get more than eleven blog entries into this list, it's pretty difficult to separate these two because they were intended to be linked in the first place.  At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Both of these entries were inspired by a virtual presentation I provided for the Collectors Club of New York.  Okay...  It was a REAL presentation, not a virtual one.  But, I was safely ensconced in front of my computer, just as the audience members were.  I appreciate the opportunities to participate in things like this that are brought about by tools like Zoom because I might not have been able to join in otherwise.

There were many positive responses to the content I shared during the presentation, so I thought I would convert some of it to a blog form.  If you would like to learn a bit about how I use information from one cover to help me understand another cover, these blogs might be of interest to you. 

10.  Crossing the Pond and Lighting a Candle

3. Why was paraffin a popular choice for candle making in the 1860s?

I will admit that some of my favorite Postal History Sunday's to write are those where I allow myself to really explore a single cover fully and thoroughly.  This article is actually a very good example of that approach.  It starts with a step by step "reading" of the cover to help show everyone how I could determine postal rates, routes and means of transportation.  Then, we get to explore the contents and the recipients of the folded letter being featured.

This article does a good job of knowing when to quit, in my opinion.  And that's actually one of the hardest things to figure out as I write Postal History Sunday.  Clearly topics like trans-Atlantic mail carriage, candle making and the history of a specific geographical region can fill chapters in a book.  The trick is to find enough to clearly and accurately reflect enough of each subtopic to be interesting and engaging without crossing the line and becoming dull and overbearing.

9.  Validating a Dispensation

4. Why couldn't the sender prepay all of the postage to send this letter to the US?

And here is another entry that focuses on a single cover - this time from Rome to Baltimore in the 1850s.  Yes, another cover is described in the article, but the point of its inclusion is to help us understand this one better.

I like this entry because it has a nice balance between the postal history and the social history.  There's something for everyone - which makes it a good choice for this list.  It also fell together fairly easily, which is rarely the case.  There are typically a few points where everything hangs up and I have to fight through things.  It's noteworthy when that doesn't happen AND the results also read well.

8. Valuable Real Estate

5. What were the possible reasons for people implementing cross-writing in letters?

Postal History Sunday entries that appear to succeed in being accessible to a broad audience often win my favor if I am trying to decide between two choices for the Author's Choice list.  Everyone can probably relate to the idea of running out of space - just as the writer of this letter might have been feeling as they tried to put everything they could on a few sheets of paper. 

I also enjoy taking advantage of opportunities to feed everyone some postal history facts and information while you are distracted by something like cross-writing.  Or maybe I enjoy slipping in some social history while you are distracted by the postal history?  Doesn't matter, I am happy either way.

7. Farm Palace

6. How many plants did the Dickey Clay Mfg Co have at its peak?

Not every Postal History Sunday has a great deal of postal history in it.  Sometimes, the social history rules the day.  Regardless, the operative word is "history."  

The journey for this article focuses around the advertising images on a mailed envelope instead of the postage rates required or the routes the letter took to get from here to there.  I even got to do a little bit with local Iowa history this time around.  I also appreciate the opportunity to find a link to my profession as a grower of food.  Sometimes the personal connection lends more meaning - and with that meaning there is often better writing.

6. Correspondence Course II

7. How did Belgium increase its importance for mail carriage in Europe?

Sometimes, I get the urge to write about something with more breadth rather than depth.  I was able to accomplish that by focusing on several covers that were mailed to Luden and van Geuns in Amsterdam in the 1850s and 1860s.  Instead of starting by analyzing a cover, this article introduces us to the people behind the business before taking the time to look at several covers they received while they were in business from locations all over Western Europe.

This particular article is an updated rewrite of an article I shared with the Postal History Journal a couple years before Postal History Sunday existed.  Once again, I've learned a great deal since that time, so I like to think I've done the subject proud with a strong rewrite.

5.  Night Flight

8. How long might a letter take to travel from the East to West Coast via surface mail in the 1920s?

The Author's Choice blog is a chance for me to celebrate (more for myself than for you) a little bit of flexibility in my own writing and learning.  For example, it would certainly be far easier for me to write Postal History Sunday entries that focused entirely on the covers that bear the 24-cent 1861 postage stamp.  Or, at the least, stick to the 1850-1875 time period where I am most comfortable.  But, I often select entries that range further afield from that comfort zone.

That's why an article that features air mail in the United States during the 1920s was an enjoyable stretch for me.  There are all sorts of resources available for the early development of air mail, so it's not as if it was horribly difficult to find answers.  But, even when information is freely available, familiarity (or lack thereof) plays a significant role when it comes to writing clearly and accurately.  I think I did pretty well with this one, even if I do not profess to be an expert on the material, so it gets to be on this list.

4. Humbug!

9. What percent of items found their way out of the Dead Letter Office in the US?

Sometimes, I get a feeling about an item and I just know there's going to be something enjoyable to write about.  This is one of those cases.  As soon as I noticed the word "Humbug" boldly written on this cover, I just had to explore.  The result is a an entertaining blog article that falls deep into the subject of dead letter mail - a postal history subject that can quickly become complex but is always interesting.  And the idea of undeliverable letters is something we can all relate to - which makes the topic very accessible to most readers.

Another way I can tell this was a good blog was the fact that I continued to be motivated to learn more even after the article was "complete."  As a matter of fact, there's more humbuggery in this follow up Postal History Sunday.  Maybe, someday, we'll see a third installment where I put all of that and some new discoveries together?  I don't know.  I guess we'll find out together.

3. Dutch Treat

10. How long was the 27 cent postage rate for mail from the US to the Netherlands active?

It never seems to fail.  Each time I have done the year-end Author's Choice article for Postal History Sunday, there are three that I struggle to order.  On any given day, I might change my mind about where each of these three land.  I feel like that is a good sign because it indicates to me that there is some consistency in the quality of my writing (you can decide whether it's a good or bad consistency).

I received a comment regarding this particular entry that it gives a good perspective as to why some postal rates are common while others are not.  I must admit that my goal was a bit more simple at first.  I wanted to explore why it was that I had to look so long to find any example of this 27 cent rate from the US to the Netherlands.  But, as I dug into the topic, it felt natural to compare and contrast some of the options for mail between the two countries at the time.

But, there is actually one more reason why I like this Postal History Sunday article.  It felt, to me, like I had unlocked a fresh way to write about this material - a slightly different way to view it.  It might not seem all that different to you, and that's fine.  But I found some fresh perspective about how to explore things and that means something when you try to write something new each week.

2. Guano Wars

11. Why was Chincha Island important to the US and Europe in the 1860s?

This Postal History Sunday is actually one that I've been sitting on for a few years.  I've done some research on and off and written a little bit here and there on the topic.  But that writing did not get to the point where I pushed the "publish" button unless it was supplementary information for another PHS topic.

That's part of how this blog has worked over the past three and a half years.  Most topics are explored over time and the knowledge gets refined as I learn more.  Sometimes, I'll write on a topic and publish it fairly quickly - producing a reasonably good article.  Other times, I might publish something and then find it lacking when I review a year or two later.  That's when I let myself re-write what is written.  Then, there are topics like this one - where I just don't want to share it until it gets closer to where I ultimately want it to go.

This particular blog connects my profession as a grower of food to postal history and the history of a region that we often ignore in the United States (the west coast of South America).  It would not surprise me if I decided to take this particular topic even further in the future.

1. Forward! and the Mystery of Joseph Cooper

12. What happened to Joseph Cooper?

Then there are articles that come together in the matter of a couple of weeks.  And, oddly enough this time around, I actually started this particular Postal History Sunday for the prior week and got to a point where I knew there was too much.  So, I found a stopping point for that blog and left a teaser at the end of it for this one!

This is the only time out of 176 PHS articles that I stopped writing a blog and then still published what I had - only to follow up with something more the next week.  But, it worked.  I was able to ride the momentum from the prior week, using that energy to track down Joseph Cooper as best as I was able.  I even infected my lovely bride, Tammy, with the search and she helped track some information down too.

This particular entry explores a postal history topic in some detail (forwarded mail) while also taking a look at the social history surrounding not one, but two different people.  The trick was to find enough so I could write something that was compelling while, once again, avoiding the temptation of writing too much.  I don't know if this one succeeded as well as some of the others did, but the enjoyment of the search stood out for me in this blog - and that's why it lands at number one this year!

And there you are, my list for 2023.   I hope you enjoyed this and the blogs I linked here.  Have a fine remainder of your weekend and an excellent 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.

The Depths of the Tomato Forest - Faux Real Story Week

Our story week has been extended to the end of the year!  It turns out I had more of them to share than I thought and the time during the holiday season is a perfect time to gather everyone around a fire and tell them.  Enjoy!

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Once upon a time, there was a farm.  And, on this farm, there was a tomato forest.  If you left the old farmhouse with its Guardian Dragons, took the path around the Mighty Oaks and through the clover patch, you could see the garden.

A wall of zinnias bordered that garden and just behind that wall was the Tomato Forest.  If you believed the story the farmers told, the tangled green vines were supported by wire cages fashioned out of old woven-wire fences.  But, to look at it, the Tomato Forest sure looked like it held itself up with its own magic.

Inga had been to the farm before with her parents, but this was the first time she was going to stay for more than a single day's visit.  Turi and Torger held her hand as her parents drove away.  "It's going to be fun staying at the farm for a couple of days," said Torger, "It will be fine.  Turi and I are here with you."

Inga wasn't entirely sure about that and a tear rolled down her face to her chin.  Things can get pretty scary when you are small and things are different from what you are used to.

Farmer Tammy looked at Farmer Rob and said, "Well, I suppose we'd better introduce you to some of the inhabitants of our farm!  I know you've already met our friendly Farm Supervisors!"

Turi, Torger, and Inga walked with the farmers to the pasture and when they got there, the hens rushed to the fence.  They clucked and squawked, trying to get the kids' attention.  The rooster even fluffed out his feathers and crowed a couple of times.  It was time to show off and impress the visitors.

If they did this right maybe the next visit would include some treats - like some bread or vegetable scraps!

The hens were very interesting and Inga almost forgot that she wasn't going to go home and sleep in her own bed that night.

And, the cats WERE very friendly, and they almost made her feel that everything would be all right even though her Mom and Dad weren't going to be in the same house at the end of the day.  

And, the farmers were actually pretty nice so maybe... just maybe... this would be ok?

In the afternoon, the children helped give the chickens some kitchen scraps and the birds were very excited.  They were pleased that their earlier efforts to impress everyone had paid off.  

After they watched the birds eat their treats, the children played under the Mighty Oaks and they went and looked UP at the blue silo that stood sentinel at one corner of the farm.

They visited the barn and Turi wanted to climb up and see the hay mow.  Farmer Rob followed her up.  "I won't let you fall," he said.  And he didn't, even though it seemed like they were very far off of the ground!

At the end of the day, Inga helped the farmers make certain all of the hens were in their room.  Before the farmers closed the door, Turi and Torger went in to see if there were any more eggs to put in the basket.  They all said good night to the Farm Supervisor cats and went into the old farmhouse.

And it was not the same as home.  Inga wanted her Mom and Dad.  She wanted her room.  And she wanted her bed where she would be safe and warm.

Farmer Rob tried to help by pointing to a little green dragon that sat by the stairway.  "Do you see that dragon?  And have you noticed the other dragons in each room of the house?  They're here to protect us.  They are our Guardian Dragons.  If anything bad comes into the house, they'll burn it up before it can get close to us."

Inga wasn't sure that the little stuffed dragon would do much of anything to protect her, but she smiled bravely anyway.  

But when she got up the next morning, the farmers pointed out a ring of dark dust at the foot of the stairs.  "See?" they said, "Our Guardian Dragons must have prevented something from getting upstairs to you!"

Inga still wasn't so sure that the Guardian Dragons had done anything since they looked exactly the same as they had the night before.  But, nothing bad had happened and she had been safe.  Maybe she was still missing her parents and her home, but she was ok... and the sun was shining.

And today, they were going to visit the Tomato Forest!

They left the old farmhouse.  They walked under the Mighty Oaks.  They made their way past the clover and they came to the wall of zinnias.  

They were greeted by a monarch butterfly that sat on one of the flowers.  It opened and closed its wings slowly as its probed for nectar.  It didn't seem bothered by the children's approach and it eventually lifted off from that flower and lazily floated above the wall, looking for another likely candidate for its next landing spot. 

They walked through the opening in the zinnias and found a row of basil.  There were bees buzzing on the flowers there and when they brushed against the leaves they noticed the pungent, sweet fragrance of the plants. 

And then they came to the edge of the Tomato Forest.

The plants were huge!  They were so much taller than the children and the vines and leaves created what looked like an impenetrable mass of green.

"So, how will we get the tomatoes out of the Tomato Forest?" asked Farmer Tammy.  "I know there are some ripe tomatoes in there somewhere, but I can't figure out how to get to them."

They looked a little more and the children noticed something the farmers hadn't.  There were tunnels in the vines!  Areas where someone who was their size could go, but the farmers could not!

"I'll go see if there are tomatoes in there," said Turi.

Turi crawled into the Tomato Forest and the other four waited until she finally cried out, "I found one!"

And then she said, "I found a bunch of little ones too!"

Turi, Torger and Inga helped the farmers find the ripe tomatoes in the Tomato Forest, bringing them out so the red and yellow fruits could be put into harvest trays.

"We will take some of these to the farmers' market," said Farmer Tammy. "But first, we'll need to taste some of them to make sure they are good enough!"

A round of taste-testing found the tomatoes to be quite good and encouraged everyone to look for more ripe tomatoes for the market.  Once they were pretty sure they had found all of the ripe fruit, they picked up the harvest trays...

and carried them past the basil with its buzzing bees and fragrant leaves...

took them through the opening in the wall of zinnias where the Monarch floated lazily along its length...

walked past the clover and under the Mighty Oaks...

and returned to the old farmhouse where the Guardian Dragons patiently waited, always watching for things that might threaten the inhabitants of the old farmhouse.

When Inga's parents returned to take the children home, she was very happy to see them and she knew she would sleep in her own, safe bed that night.  But, she wasn't afraid of the farm anymore.  While it wasn't home, it wasn't at all bad.

It was just different.  And different is ok.

The Bunny Trap - Faux Real Story Week

We're getting closer to the end of the year, but we're still not done with Faux Real Story Week.  Ok, it's been two weeks.  But, I suspect very few are upset about that.

Fill up the hot chocolate mug and gather around the fire - here comes another one!

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Our biggest nemesis in our early gardens was the rabbit. And we tried several approaches to exclude them from our vegetable crops.

 

We even tried reasoning with them - after all, rabbits have this nasty habit of taking out very young plants - even if more established options were available. You would think they would understand that there would be MORE, not less, to eat if they let things get a bit bigger.  Heck, I would have gladly given them some of our bounty if they would just leave the little, baby plants alone!

 

Unfortunately, the average education level for members of Rodentia is fairly low, so we resorted to fencing.

 

Rabbit fencing has smaller holes closer to the ground to keep rabbits and other critters from crawling/hopping/walking through. And, we had carefully placed timbers around the perimeter of the garden and then erected a fence that tied into those timbers. We reasoned (and correctly so) that this would make it difficult for critters to make a quick burrow under the fence.

 

We entered the gardening season feeling as if we had prepared well for the inevitable rabbit population explosion in our neighborhood. And, we might have been....UNTIL....

 

One day, the neighbors noticed the cute little bunnies in the bunny nest. 

 

"Aren't they cute? Would you like to pet them?"

 

" No. No, thank you."

 

Even then, they had beady eyes.  Never trust a critter with beady eyes.  Especially when vegetables are on the line.

 

The neighbor's dog noticed the cute little bunnies just outside their bunny nest a week later.

 

"Aren't they cute? Would you like to taste them?"

"Yes, I would," said the dog.

 

Run bunnies! Run! Run dog! Run! 

 

Look out!  There's a fence! 

 

I bet we can get through it because we are still small. Squeeeeeze... pop! Two baby bunnies, complete with beady eyes, in the garden.  One dog - crashing into said fence.  The fence stood up to the collision and the dog bounced back up to chase the third bunny in another direction.

Meanwhile the two bunnies in the garden looked around.

Utopia! Baby veggies everywhere! 

 

See the bunnies. See the bunnies see the veggies with their beady eyes. See them get fat. Now they cannot not get back out of the garden because their baby bunny tummies are full.

 

They are safe because the puppy dog cannot get in. The humans cannot chase them out. The humans cannot catch them. The humans can't even throw rocks at them for fear of destroying the very vegetables they seek to protect.  

 

Sigh. Anyone for organically raised rabbit?

 

Eventually, we removed the fence, chased the rabbits out and replaced the fence. We really outsmarted those critters that time, didn't we?

Cold Front - Faux Real Story Week

I hope you aren't tired of our Faux Real Stories, because I've got another one for you today!

Gather 'round the fire and keep sipping the hot chocolate.  Have a great day and enjoy the read!

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I remember several years ago at the farm when we had a stubborn cold-weather system that came with a fair amount of snow.  We were in the habit then of listening to the weather radio early in the evening to get a feel for the next day's weather.  The synthesized weather voice said, yet again, the words "bitt er lee cold."  We'd been hearing that more than normal that particular winter, so we had multiple opportunities to hear the automated voice butcher that same phrase over and over again.  Bitt er lee cold... indeed.

On the other hand, I think we handled "bitt er lee cold' better than we have handled "except higher amounts in thunderstorms."  There have been many seasons where our farm WAS where the exception occurred - over and over again.  

I KNOW we handled "bitt er lee cold" better than the continuous list of warnings and hydrological reports we heard in the flood years of 2008 and 2010.  Ok, you get the point.  Except that wasn't where I wanted to go with this story.  I suspect you are noticing that this happens a lot with me and my stories.  

Now, where was I?

I have it on record that we've had lows at the farm of -21 degrees Fahrenheit over the past few winters and we've gotten below -30 (2009, I think).  We'll grant you that this is cold.  But, Tammy and I had an experience in one of our former homes that provide us with a fallback whenever we start to feel put upon by cold weather.  All we need to do is look at each other and say - "Duluth."

Now, before you think we are about to bash Duluth, Minnesota, you should know something.  People who live in Duluth are proud of their ability to handle the weather up there.  We learned that if you think it's too cold when you live there, you just keep it to yourself.  

Why?  Because, those who live there will tell you why what you are experiencing isn't so bad.  In short, they'll make you feel like a wimp.  Besides, it isn't as cold by the lake as it is by Embarrass, or maybe Tower (-60 in 1996).  If you want cold, you go there.  Or maybe Hudson Bay.

We lived in Duluth for just about one year.  And, of course, our time there included a Winter that started with snow in September (not a rarity I was assured) and one of the coldest Winters they had experienced for a very long time.  It was the first time in 25 years that Lake Superior froze over.... completely.  

Yes, we can pick them, can't we?  It even made the news in Duluth.  So, if the natives said it was something special, we have a right to pull out the story I think.

It seemed like the sun in Duluth was never much higher over the horizon than this.

Of course, for the sake of a good story, I can exaggerate a little bit (like I did with the caption above).  But, thus far I have not stretched the truth in anything other than this caption.  And, what makes this even more enjoyable is the fact that I don't need to do anything other than report what happened for the desired effect.

It was January and Rob needed to get to the University of Minnesota - Duluth for classes.  We lived in a drafty old house that was just a block from the lake.  UMD was on the hill and over the hill (so to speak).  This is important to know because weather by the lake could be very different than weather "on the hill" which was different from the weather "over the hill" (some might say "on top of the hill"). 

However, this Winter, it didn't matter much where you were, the temps were pretty cold. 

In any event, Tammy would take Rob up to UMD most mornings and we would drive by one of the bank signs that would display the temperature.   This, in and of itself, speaks to both the toughness and/or dementia that people who live in Duluth exhibit.  Only someone who wants to wallow in their own misery wishes to see temperatures that always exhibit a negative sign in front of the numerical reading every single day, all day long.

During this particular week, we would go out and start our car and make sure not to make mention to each other about how cold it was.  But, as we drove by that infernal sign, we could not help but read the bad news OUT LOUD to each other.  

Well, what would you do if you saw -35 on one of these signs? 

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday.  Each day we would drive by and see that same temperature on the sign.  We thought at one point it might be broken.  But, Tammy would see different numbers with that stupid "-" in front of them at different times of the day as she ran Meals On Wheels.  So, that wasn't it.  Though it is possible it couldn't read a temperature COLDER than that.

And, of course, it was a bank sign.  They aren't noted as being the paragons of accuracy.  Actually, don't bank signs usually run a bit warm?  Nonetheless, it was cold.  And, a check with historical records that year does show the lowest temp for that month at -39.

We went outside on Friday and we both looked at each other with a bit of surprise.  It felt warmer.  In fact, we both said something about how much nicer it seemed.  I don't think either of us was about to suggest a hike up Seven Bridges Road at that moment, but we were both convinced that it was warmer.

So, this time as we headed up the hill towards the sign, we were anxious to see if we were right.  And we were.

-25

Yep, that's what the sign said.  And now you know.  A human being can feel the difference between really cold and really really cold.

Stuck on You - Faux Real Story Week(s)

 

We had actually been growing produce and raising poultry on the Genuine Faux Farm for six seasons before we added a building, called a high tunnel, to the farm during our seventh season (2010).  A high tunnel is a hoop building that uses the solar gain provided by a plastic covering to extend the in-soil growing season both at the beginning and the end of the year.

The first high tunnel was put up in July of that year, too late for an early Spring crop - but plenty of time for us to go 'all in' for our late Fall and early Winter crops.  The picture you see above is what the building looked like on November 5 of that year.  The building was full of lettuce, kale, spinach, collards, mustard greens and a few other things.  And it was about this time (early November) that we started harvesting from the building for our extended Fall season CSA shares.  

The field crops were done - so this was it.  We had to make these things, along with any storage crops we had, work for the rest of the year's farm income.

This high tunnel has a metal frame for both the hoops and the end walls and a single layer of plastic for the cover.  On a sunny day, temperatures can get quite warm despite outside temperatures well below freezing.  However, once the sun sank below the horizon, the thin covering did not hold the heat for long.  And, yes, the walls themselves were often be at temperatures near and below freezing while the area near the soil was well above freezing during the day.

All in all, the high tunnel, which we dubbed "Eden" worked pretty well - allowing us to harvest up to the week before Christmas.  But, harvest was not without its perils. 

The Scenario
Temperatures during the first week of December were in the low single digits (Fahrenheit).  The sun was out and there was not much wind - both of which I considered a blessing.  I had to pick for the extended season CSA shares and the crops were in the unheated high tunnel.

In order to harvest all of this leafy green goodness, the temperatures needed to get warm enough so that I wasn't picking frozen greens.  With the sun out, temperatures had reached 40 degrees inside the building by 11:00 AM and it made it to 58 degrees for a brief time at the peak of the day.  After my check of the temperature at 11, I figured I could start harvest at noon.

So, I worked outside the high tunnel for awhile.  Just because there is snow on the ground and it is cold, that doesn't mean there aren't things the farmer has to do.  There are chickens that need food and water.  Eggs need to be collected.  Some things needed to be moved.  It's just the way it is.  

In the process of doing all that work, I got some snow on my black coat.  That's normal too.  No big deal.  So, I went to the Truck Barn and collected the harvest equipment - then I trudged through the snow toward Eden.

Some of the crops had an extra cover on them, which I had to remove.  There was a little moisture there as well and that landed on me and my coat.  Once again - not a big deal.  It happens all the time.

I proceeded to do the harvest, picking the various greens into each of their designated tubs, being careful to pick enough so each person would get their fair share of the produce.  After about an hour of harvest, I decided to stand up at the end of a row, next to one of the end walls.  I needed to stretch out my back - so I lifted my arms to the sky, arched my back and.....

Review of the Facts

Let's remind you of a few things before we continue with the story.  Rob wears a black coat.  Black tends to collect heat from the sun.  Rob's coat had moisture from melted snow and water from the row covers.  The end walls of the high tunnel have metal.  The walls are much cooler than the air in the high tunnel - often below freezing.

Back to the Story
Ahem.... as I was saying...

I needed to stretch my back - so I lifted my arms to the sky, arched my back and... the back of my damp coat touched the metal supports on the end wall.  The end wall's temperature was below freezing, the coat was wet and.... the coat adhered to the metal.

The Thought Process
Hmmmmm.  I appear to be stuck to the metal on the end wall.   I'm glad that wasn't my tongue....or my hand.  You know what?  I appear to be really stuck to this wall.  Why was my back so wet?  

You know, I should give it a bit more of a tug, so I can get loose.  

Oy, that's on there good.  I hope I don't rip the coat.  Maybe I should just unzip the coat and worm out of it?  You know, it might be a bit silly if my coat has to stay on this wall until warmer weather.  But, it could be sillier still if I just stayed here....

And It Got Even Sillier

Now, you need to get a little bit better picture of what this must have looked like.  I was standing up against the wall and my hands were up just a bit over my head level and my elbows were bent.  Almost as if this was a 'hold-up' and I was the victim.  Oh - wait.  That's exactly what this was.  I was being held up and at the mercy of our new high tunnel.

The coat was a zip-up coat, so there was no way I was going to reach down with my hands to unzip the coat and step out of it.  My cell phone was in a side pocket of my jeans that resided just above my knee.  Once again, there was no way I was going to be able to reach that.  And, if I did... who do you call?  And once you do call someone... what do you say?

"Hello.  I'm stuck to the wall of our high tunnel and I can't get out?"  After the giggle fit the recipient of the call was bound to have, I am sure they would suggest that I figure it out on my own.

I tried to ask Doughboy, the farm supervisor cat at the time, for a little help.  He just yawned and proceeded to sit down to watch what I would do next.  Some help.

So, I figured I had two choices.  I could try to worm out of the coat by bending my knees and wriggling out the bottom of the coat.  Then, I would leave my coat there until the Spring thaw.  Or, I could just leave the coat on and use a bit more force to pull myself free.  I supposed it might rip the coat - but that's better than waiting until our customers called Tammy to tell her I was absent from the delivery four hours later.

So, I lifted one leg up to help get some momentum and tore myself free.  There was some pilling from the back of the coat still attached to the end wall, but otherwise the coat seemed fine and continued to serve me well after that point.

And, since that time, I always stretch my back when I'm in the middle of the building.

Box of Maple - Faux Real Story Week

People seemed to be having fun sipping hot chocolate and enjoying stories.  So, since I have a few more ready to go - let's just keep sharing the Faux Real Stories.  Enjoy!

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Once upon a time there lived a family who had a backyard that was filled with one too many trees. The mighty pin oak and the sprawling locust had left very little sky for the maple tree to reach into with its sparsely covered branches. While the tree had, in fact, grown to a respectable 20 feet in height and had a 3 inch diameter trunk, it was a bit sickly and was judged to be entirely too close to the humans' abode anyway.

The decree came down from the parents of the household that the tree should be removed. And this task fell to their first child on a fine June day. Out he marched, with a saw and a branch pruner, determined to reward the trust placed in him to do the task efficiently and thoroughly. 

 

Taking the tree down in manageable portions, it was soon reduced to a pile of brush. But, what should he do to prepare its transport to the city brush pile? The solution came in the form of one cardboard box that was slated for disposal. This box had once held an artificial Christmas tree. 

 

What better container to use for a downed maple?

In a careful and well thought out manner, the tree was cut into lengths that were very nearly a perfect fit for the length of the box. Any side branches were cut off of each limb. As a result, all of the larger branches and the trunk were placed lengthwise in the box. And, happily, there was still plenty of room!

In went the small branches, covered with leaves. Anything that didn't fit well was trimmed down until it did. By mid-afternoon, there was no pile in the yard and probably no air pockets in the box.  

 

No tree and just one box - complete with a lid that barely fit over the contents - sat waiting in the back yard for parental approval.

Upon the father's return from work, he went to the backyard and wondered out loud where the brush from the tree had gone. His son, of course, proudly pointed to the box.

"Son," he said evenly, "have you tried to move that box yet?"

To make a long story less long - it took a makeshift ramp and both of us to wrangle the box into the vehicle. Getting it out again was only a little less difficult. To this day, I wonder if Dad didn't force the transfer of brush to other boxes just to temper the disappointment I might have felt if we had done so.

 

Or maybe he was just as stubborn as I was.

Eight Tiny Reindeer? - Postal History Sunday

It's hard for me to believe that we are now deep into December - Christmas Eve to be exact.  After weeks of rushing around trying to do everything all at once, we find ourselves preparing to spend some quality time with family.  And since that's exactly what I want to be doing, it seemed right to just have a little fun with this week's Postal History Sunday.

Last year, we did Twelve Covers for a Christmas Postal History Sunday.  This year, we're going to do one for each reindeer.   If you're looking for me to be super clever with my selections as they line up with reindeer name, it's not going to happen this time around.  And, I probably won't dig too deep into any one topic.  But, that doesn't mean we can't still have a little fun.

Cupid

Ok, maybe I'll try to a be a little bit clever with my first selection.  Here is a simple letter mailed within the United States.  The postage rate was 2 cents at the time, so this tiny envelope was properly paid to get to Mrs. Alvin Hill in Ames, Iowa.  There aren't any particular clues about where this was mailed, though it could very well have been mailed in Ames.

Collectors often enjoy finding the smallest envelopes that were properly and successfully mailed.  While this is certainly not the smallest I have seen, it is small enough.  And, in this case, I also have the contents - a tiny card featuring Cupid!

No, not the reindeer.  But Cupid nonetheless. 

Perhaps this particular cover might have been a better selection to share in February, but when I've got to come up with eight covers to share and I look at one that directly links to the name of one of Santa's reindeer, I must use it.

Well, at least that's how I felt.

I'm not going to vouch for the quality of the verse in this tiny card as I do not claim to be a poet of any sort.   Still, I am not certain a person scores points for rhyming "umbrella" and "fella" in a Valentine.  

I prefer harmony to discord, so I am hopeful that Mrs. Alvin Hill wasn't a poetry critic and found the little card to be charming.  Apparently someone did (or perhaps it was just amusing), because this little letter was likely mailed some time in the early 1920s and it has survived one hundred years.

Dasher

It wasn't too difficult to think of multiple options when it came to Dasher.  Business correspondence often was sent with a certain sense of urgency, just as this letter from London to Lyon, France, likely was in 1871.  

Mailed in London on August 8, it arrived on the 10th in Lyon - which is certainly quite timely.  However, this letter was not taken to the mailing office before the mails closed for the day.  That's part of the reason why there is a big, bold "L1" in a box on this cover.

Post offices adhered to schedules that were based on the departure times for the transportation systems that carried the mail to and from those locations. So, for example, if the train that was to carry the mail from London to Dover (where it would then cross the English Channel on a steamship) was to depart the station at 10 PM, the mails to depart on that train would close at some point prior to that to allow the postal workers to properly prepare the mail and get it to that station.

For the sake of making a clear example of it, let's say this London East Central (EC) post office closed the mails to France at 9 PM so it could be ready to go on the 10 PM train.  Now imagine the poor clerk from Truninger & Company at 41 Threadneedle Street rushing to get to Saint Marten's LeGrand where the East Central London Post Office was located before the mail closes.  They enter the lobby, possibly a little out of breath, and see the window to receive mail to France... closed.  

The good news for this clerk was that, for a fee, this letter could still go out with the 10PM train.  That fee was one penny more.

Two stamps were placed on the letter.  One for 3 pence and the other for 4 pence.  The price for mail to France was 3 pence per 1/4 ounce.  So, this letter must have weighed over 1/4 ounce and no more than 1/2 ounce.  Six pence for the letter rate and one more penny to pay for a late fee.  Just so this letter could meet the 10 PM train.

Truninger and Company were exchange merchants and according to this clipping from the January 17, 1885 Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, they became insolvent after 40 years of business in 1885, fourteen years after this letter was sent.

Dancer

Well, look!  Another tiny reindeer... er... cover.  This one was mailed on January 1, 1899 at Binghamton, New York to Liberty Falls (also New York).  Once again, the 2 cent rate for letter mail was in effect for this letter as it was for our first one.

Sadly, this time I have no contents.  I also have no other reason to share this other than the fact that it is a tiny cover to hold a spot for one of the eight tiny reindeer.

For those who are wondering what "Sull. Co." at the bottom left refers to, you might initially think - as I did - that this might be a reference to a company, just as our second item had a handstamp for Truninger and Co on Threadneedle Street in London.  But, this time, you would be incorrect.  Liberty Falls is in Sullivan County in New York.

Vixen

Here is a letter mailed in the 1860s in Camden, New York, for a recipient in Camden.  The one cent stamp paid the rate for what was known as a "drop letter."  The basic idea was that if a person went to the town post office and dropped a letter there for someone else to pick up, it should not cost the same as a letter that traveled hundreds of miles to another post office location in the United States (3 cents), nor should it cost the same as a letter that would be taken by a carrier to the addressee (2 cents).

This letter was likely sent in 1868, when the 1 cent drop letter rate was effective for towns that did not have any carrier delivery service.  In those towns everyone came to the post office to pick up their mail.

While this particular cover is not a "big deal" for its postal history, it does have something sneaky interesting going on (just like a fox, eh... get it?  Vixen?  Fox?  No?   Ok, never mind).

The postage stamp on this cover is an example that the production of postage stamps was not always perfect.  This sheet of stamps must have gotten hung up somehow in the machine that punched holes to make the perforations that allowed easy separation of one stamp on a sheet from the others.  Instead of a nice rectangular stamp, you can see that the bottom and right perforations are askew.  

There's even a stray perforation at the top right.

Prancer

 
Here's a letter that was sent from Buffalo, New York on May 17, 1864 to Albany.  This cover was picked up from a post office box rather than delivered to the addressee in Albany.  All you have to note is the "Box 713" that appears at the bottom of the address panel to get that confirmation.  

The idea of a post office box was an innovation that allowed those who were willing to pay rent for a box to avoid lines at the General Delivery window to check if they had mail.  The first locked wooden mailbox door designed for customers to pick up their mail by opening that box was created in 1857.

Also of interest on this particular cover is the interesting cancellation that was used to deface the postage stamp so it could not be reused.  For a short while, cancellation devices with cutting edges or punches were used in a few post offices, including Buffalo.  If you look closely, you can see that the thin, center circle in this cancellation does cut a bit into the paper of the stamp.

The biggest difficulty with these cancellation devices, in addition to possible damage to the contents, was how quickly they became dull.  Collectors of stamps and postal history typically refer to these as patent cancellations.

Comet

And here is a reminder to us all that postal history items are not always nice, neat and easy to figure out.  The item shown above is written on thin, tissue-like paper - probably to keep the weight low enough to prevent the letter from getting too heavy (and requiring more postage).  

Like many of us, the letter writer started writing as if they had plenty of space, but eventually found that they had much more to say than they had figured.  As a result, they began to cram more and more into smaller spaces.  In the end, the letter looked like this when it was mailed.

This letter was mailed on March 30, 1857 from Rome in the Papal States.  Twelve bajocchi in postage were applied in the form of two stamps, which was apparently enough for this letter to be properly paid to get to Geneva, Switzerland.  There are three indicators that this was the case.  The red "PD" in a box, the red "Franco" and the red "X" all tell the same story.

Donner

Here's a cover that I think is a pretty example of mail from Basel, Switzerland to London in 1859.  There are two stamps paying the 60 rappen rate for mail to England via France.  The letter crossed into France at St Louis, went through Paris and eventually found it's way to London - taking three days to get there.

Now, if you look closely at the ink flourish under the word "London," you might notice that the paper is eroding there.  In fact, you might notice some small areas in the address where the paper is also gone.

This ink is probably iron gall ink, which does, over time, eat into the paper on which it was applied.  If you are interested in a brief introduction to some of the history of inks, you can try this relatively short summary by Lydia Pyne.

And, I know I told you I wasn't going to try to be too clever with my choices - but can anyone guess now why I chose this one to go with Donner?

Blitzen

Blitzen gets to show off an internal German letter mailed in 1916 and we're focusing on both the red label and the purple printing at the top of this envelope.  This letter had an extra fee paid for express courier delivery to this cigarette fabricator.  Both the label and the purple printed instructions tell us this.

But, an additional instruction at top left says "Nicht Nachts!" - which told the post that a night time delivery was not wanted for this item.

So, while they were in a hurry to get that letter to the recipient, it was likely that no one would be present to receive the letter during the night time hours.   Or perhaps, Blitzen didn't have a glowing red nose so he couldn't find the right spot until morning?

Rudolph

Did you actually think I would leave out the ninth tiny reindeer?

Of course, my Rudolph features a 24 cent US stamp from the 1861 series.  This time, it shares a cover with a 10 cent and 12 cent stamp, paying 46 cents for a letter from the US to Bergen, Norway.

Merry Christmas to you all!  And, if you don't celebrate Christmas, I wish for you all the blessings that are appropriate for you and yours.

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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.

Drive-by Vegetabling - Faux Real Story Week

 

I would occasionally work for Grandpa Faux for week-long stints during the summer, painting, cutting down weeds, and being an accomplice in semi-frequent "drive-by vegetabling" trips. 

But, I think I've gotten ahead of myself.  Let me provide you with a little bit of background to help the story go down easier.  And, you've got your hot chocolate too, right?  Take a sip and settle in.

 

Grandpa was a contractor (cement and other general contracting) who had a workshop near the edge of town. He also grew up on a farm. Needless to say, some of the land around the shop was pressed into service as a place to grow some peppers, squash and other vegetables. 

 

Most of the plants he chose to grow were things that were easy to pick quickly, but were likely to produce more than he could, or would, eat.  In fact, I remember a time that we brought some veggies to a restaurant he frequented and he gave it to them and asked if they would prepare a specific meal for him - and they did it.  On the flip side, I also remember he did some work for them when they needed it too, so I'm sure the trade was a good one from their perspective.

If I could ask him, I bet he'd confirm that he grew Black Beauty zucchini!

So, what did he do with extra zucchini, peppers and other veggies?  He certainly was not the sort of person who would let perfectly good produce go to waste.

 

Well, my grandparents lived in a trailer court at the time, and these places often become a community of their own.  This particular court had a significant number of retirees who lived on fixed incomes.  Surely those people would appreciate and enjoy fresh produce!

 

Of course, Grandpa was happy to share the excess freely with those he knew. So, what exactly, is the problem with this situation? Person with extra produce meets those wanting some produce. Sounds good, right?

Ok, you've forgotten something.  Remember Aunt <fill in the name here>?  You know, the one who would try to give you money for everything and anything - especially when you were trying to be nice and provide a gift?

Is this an Iowa thing?  I'm not sure, but I do remember the struggle to do the right thing with another relative.  She would always want to give a dollar or two to each of the kids for whatever reason when we visited.  A seven-year old kid is going to have a difficult time looking at money being offered and not be happy to take it.  But we absolutely KNEW that we were expected to decline.

In fact, we knew that part of the game was to protest - sometimes vigorously - that you would NOT take the money.  So we did that.

 

Manners, and maybe tradition, dictated that we should not accept the money.  Just as it appeared to be a tradition to try to foist the money off on the children.  The resulting tumult of repeated offers to pay/give cash and refusals to accept payment/said gift could become tedious, frustrating, uncomfortable and...well... you get the idea.

 

So.... back to the story at hand.  My Grandfather did NOT want to deal with that scenario because there most certainly were a number of Aunt <fill in your name heres> in the trailer court!  They were going to want to play the game of "I want to pay you/no I don't want any money" for however long it was going to take.  And these people played for keeps!  Or... um... gives?  I don't know.  Grandpa knew they wouldn't give up easily, we'll just leave it at that.
 

I entered the picture as a grandchild who was capable of dashing from the cab of the truck, to the front door with a bag of produce and back to the truck in a few seconds. After all, I did need to stay in shape for baseball.  

 

So, Grandpa Faux would look at me and say, "Let's go to the shop."  

 

Hey, he's my ride, I couldn't exactly say no.  So, we went to the shop.  We trudged out to the (very) long single row of plants and he gave instructions on what to pick.  Once we'd picked it all, we went back to the trailer and put the excess into paper bags because we had some 'errands' to run before we went to dinner ourselves.

I am positive Grandpa enjoyed this game more than he let on.  But, I'll tell you this, I took it as serious business.  I was NOT going to get caught and I was going to make each delivery without squashing any squish (yes, you read that right)!  

 

He'd stop in front of a place and tell me where to put the bag.  I'd run up to the target home, rap quickly on the front door or ring the doorbell and dash back to the truck.  This was followed by burning rubber (ok, I exaggerate a bit there) as we zipped away. 

 

There it is, the anatomy of a drive-by vegetabling.

As I look back on it, I am not sure who was having more fun - me, Grandpa...or the people who began trying to anticipate when we would arrive so they could find some way to catch us.  In one case, we noticed someone peaking out through the blinds of their window as we pulled up.  So, Grandpa sped back up and we went on.  We drove up on the road that was a block away and he gave me instructions to run through the backyard and then slip it onto the front porch.  Then, once the delivery was dropped off, we drove around the front so we could wave as they picked up the bag from their porch.

I realize now that I only did this a few times since I only stayed with him for a week at a time twice a summer while I was in high school and early college years.  But, I still remember the joy of giving - with a little bit of "daring do" to put an edge on it.