Hand-cranked, Homemade Ice Cream

By Davalynn Spencer

One of my earliest memories is summertime at my Grandma Chamberlain’s farmhouse.

Common blue violets, or meadow violets, grew in her ankle-deep lawn, shaded on the west side of the house by giant trees, the type of which, I’ve no idea. Memory focuses on the diminutive purple flowers and the cool grass beneath my feet, soft and inviting to a wandering child looking for a magical world in which to lose herself on a hot summer day.

Wild Pansies or Violets on Bull Island in 2019, Wikimedia Commons

My grandparents didn’t have air conditioning. But they had a porch that stretched the width of their old white farmhouse, occupied by rocking chairs, and accessed by four broad steps that led to the paint-starved wooden porch planks.

And when all the family gathered together for the Fourth of July or one of the grandparents’ birthdays, they had homemade ice cream.

Oh my. 

Grandma's creamy vanilla ice cream was perfect by itself or with a slice of homemade apple pie.

My much-older brothers always turned the hand crank, and looking back, I suspect it was a White Mountain ice-cream maker that churned out mountains of smooth vanilla, the likes of which I have never tasted as an adult.

Why is that, I wonder? I’ve eaten a lot of ice cream over the years, but none reaches the pinnacle of Grandma’s creamy vanilla – that soft, yellowish concoction that made my brothers’ arms ache and flex competitively to see who would get the last turn of the resistant crank.

That’s how we knew it was ready, if they couldn’t budge it another inch.

Then grandma would come out with a dishtowel and more ice, remove the dasher (and hand it to me), then pack everything down until after the main course.

I got to lick the dasher clean.

According to the Wikipedia definition of ice cream, it is a “sweetened frozen food typically eaten as a snack or dessert. It may be made from dairy milk or cream and is flavoured with a sweetener, either sugar or an alternative, and any spice, such as cocoa or vanilla. Colourings are usually added, in addition to stabilizers. The mixture is stirred to incorporate air spaces and cooled below the freezing point of water to prevent detectable ice crystals from forming. The result is a smooth, semi-solid foam that is solid at very low temperatures (below 2 °C or 35 °F). It becomes more malleable as its temperature increases.”

Somehow, that description just doesn’t cut it for me.

In some countries the delectable dessert is referred to as frozen custard, frozen yogurt, sorbet, and gelato. Dairy substitutes may also be used in place of cream/milk such as soy, cashew, coconut, almond or tofu milk.

The origin of frozen dessert is rumored to be found in ancient China. And the Roman Emperor Nero is said to have called for ice from the Apennine Mountains for his honey-and-wine sorbet. As the say, when in Rome ...

Other historians argue that the Mongolians beat everyone to the draw.

Next on the historical record are traditions that trace forms of ice cream to Italy via Marco Polo, then to France, and later to England where it was regarded as “frozen snow” by Charles I.

(Speaking of snow, that is one ingredient my children quickly gathered in Colorado each fall, to which they eagerly added vanilla and milk.)

Frozen concoctions also appeared in south Asia and Persia, and Quaker colonists reportedly introduced ice cream to New England.

Agnes Marshall, "queen of ices", instrumental in making ice-cream fashionable. Public domain, Wikimedia Commons.

An English woman, Agnes Marshall, and American Nancy Johnson, are credited with inventing hand-cranked ice-cream freezers in the 1840s. I can’t help but believe that we owe these women a debt of gratitude.

And the portability of ice cream changed forever at the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis with the advent of the ice-cream cone. God bless America.

After Marshall and Johnson's small hand-cranked inventions, White Mountain came out with a larger, pine-bucket model in 1853. I reference a White Mountain ice-cream maker in my novella, Mail-order Misfire. 

Of course I don’t know for certain if my real-life Grandma’s hand-crank ice-ream freezer was a White Mountain model, but in my memory, the tall, wooden bucket that held the canister, dasher, and ice must surely have been close to the historic 1853 model.

One hundred years later, White Mountain came out with an electric motor-powered ice-cream maker that allegedly “revolutionized” homemade ice cream.

Maybe so. But I prefer the muscle-powered version and hot summer days when my brothers vied for bragging rights and I ran barefoot through Grandma’s violet-dotted grass.

~

Bestselling author and winner of the Will Rogers Gold Medallion for Inspirational Western Fiction, Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. When she’s not writing Western romance, she teaches writing workshops and wrangles Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Connect with her at https://davalynnspencer.com/books/mail-order-misfire/

Midwives in the 1800s - and Now

 

By Davalynn Spencer

Women have been giving birth since … well, since Eve bore Cain. And for millennia, other women have been helping with the process. We see reference to it in the biblical book of Exodus when Egypt’s king tells the Hebrew midwives to kill the male babies of the Hebrew women but let the female babies live. (The Hebrew population was exploding.)

The midwives “feared God,” we are told, and because they wouldn’t go along with the scheme, God later blessed them ( Exodus 1:15-21). 

Hebrew midwives telling Pharaoh that the Hebrew women were "lively"
and delivered their babies before the midwives could arrive.
Pharaoh and the Midwives, c. 1896-1902, by James Jacques Joseph Tissot

Something else we see mentioned in that passage is the term “birthstools.” Artwork from ancient cultures such as Egypt, Greece, and Rome depict different chairs or stools used during the birthing process. In fact, nearly every civilization’s history mentions the use of birthing stools or chairs, and women assistants are depicted in most artistic representations.

A pregnant woman sitting in a birthing chair, attended to by three midwives.
Rueff, Jakob, ca.1500-1558, Author Publication: Zürych: Christoffel Froschover, 1554.
Wikimedia Commons

Wall relief of childbirth and birthing chair in Treasure hall, temple of Edfu, Egypt, Remih. Wikimedia Commons.

Image: American pioneer birth scene
Gustave Joseph Witkowski, 1887

In the early 19th century, at-home childbirth was still the norm. Midwives were typically women who had successfully delivered many children of their own or of others and were valued for their experience. If available, physicians were called upon only if the birth was not proceeding normally, or if the lives of mother and child were at risk.

But when male physicians and anesthesia became more involved in the birthing process, the chairs that offered a vertical gravitational help were replaced with conventional flat beds.

By the mid-1800s, women in bigger cities often went to lying-in hospitals where babies were delivered by physicians not well-versed in germ theory – an idea that had not yet taken hold across the board. However, midwives in homes seemed intuitively aware of the importance of washing hands and keeping things clean unlike physicians who would pass from patient to patient – and sometimes autopsies – without washing their hands before attending a birth.

Rural women still depended on the help of midwives – a calling that was not particularly easy. Midwives often dealt with miscarriages and still births. But many women preferred their help, not only for their skill, but for their comfort and nurturing, as portrayed in my upcoming novel, An Impossible Price.

British surgeon Joseph Lister had taken to heart the opinions and work of experts such as Ignaz Semmelweis, Oliver Wendell Homes Sr., and Louis Pasteur regarding germs and employed the use of carbolic acid on wounds and in surgical settings. His ideas and use of antiseptics were at first mocked, but later proved famously successful, and he was credited with infection-free surgeries on both Queen Victoria and her successor, King Edward VII.

By the 1880s, germ theory and the importance of disinfecting had transformed public health in hospitals and reduced the number of maternal deaths due to puerperal (childbed) fever which had been caused by the transmission of streptococci due to unwashed hands.

Physicians continued to compete with midwives in the birthing arena, and midwifery tapered off in the 1900s.

Today, as seems to be the natural turn of events, “the times they are a-changing.” More and more women are seeking midwives to help them during their prenatal, birth, and postnatal days. A close friend of mine gave birth at home to three of her four children, and her oldest daughter has done the same. However, in the United States, midwifery is now controlled by laws that vary from state to state.

Only a certified nurse-midwife may assist at-home births in Iowa and North Carolina. In California, midwives must be under the supervision of an on-scene doctor, and other states have varying parameters.

As of July 2017, it was illegal to work as a midwife in twenty-three of the fifty states. Those who did so could be arrested for practicing medicine without a license. However, certified nurse-midwives are allowed to practice in all fifty states.

Do you know of anyone who has experienced, assisted with, or arrived via a home birth? Comment below, and I’ll bundle your name in the bassinet for a drawing for an Advanced Reader e-Copy (ARC) of my upcoming book, An Impossible Price. A random winner will be drawn May 22.

Coming June 4, 2020

Bestselling author and winner of the Will Rogers Gold Medallion for Inspirational Western Fiction, Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. When she’s not writing Western romance, she teaches writing workshops and wrangles Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley.

Sending a Telegram - Today!

By Davalynn Spencer

Last December, technological power went out in our neck of the words – rather, a large chunk of southern Colorado. No cell phone service, internet, cable, etc.

So everyone went to the market.

It was a little crazy but interesting to see people gravitate to a “central” location in town.

That’s what folks used to do. Market day was a big deal. That’s when you exchanged news with others, found out how they were getting on, and shared the latest gossip.

The last cell-phone call I received that fateful morning was from my dear friend in Kentucky who was on her way to the hospital. She’d been ill and her husband decided the ER was in order. Good call on his part.

But that was the last I heard from her.

I could not call, text, or email, and I nearly panicked.

Over the next several days (when power resurrected), I spoke to her husband and children, but I couldn’t get to her. Yes, I could have mailed a letter, a get-well card, but it wasn’t the immediate communique I’d become so accustomed to.

And then it hit me – I could send her a telegram.

Did people still do that in these technologically advanced times?

Yes, I was happy to learn. They do.

Based on research for several of my novels in which telegrams are highly important, I knew a telegram had to be hand-delivered to the named, intended recipient. A few exceptions existed, I learned. As in my case, the telegram was delivered to the hospital and not directly to my friend, though she did receive it.

I also learned that the sender still pays according to word count. Just as tweets on Twitter are limited by character count today, a telegram’s length is limited by the money you want to spend. Proportionately speaking, it’s still expensive, possibly even abrasive, given the ease with which we text and email for free.

However, it was the only choice I had, so I paid.

It was worth it.

The word telegraphy was crafted from the ancient Greek words tele (at a distance) and graphein (to write). As electrical access stretched across the United States in the 19th century, so did telegraph wires.

The envelope for a Western Union Telegraph, c. 1861 (Photo: Library of Congress)

A name nearly synonymous to telegraph is Western Union, established in 1851 as the New York and Mississippi Valley Printing Telegraph Company.

Ten years later, the first transcontinental telegraph line was completed in what is today Wyoming as a link to California, thereby connecting it to eastern networks. As the dots and dashes of Morse code stretched coast to coast, this “instant messaging” of the day signaled the demise of the short-lived Pony Express.

In 1863, telegraph lines linked Denver to the east, and it cost $9.10 to send a ten-word telegram to New York.

Some thirty years prior, American portrait artist, Professor Samuel Morse, in the late 1830s concocted a code of electrical dots and dashes used on a single wire for transmitting messages.

The first telegram. Professor Samuel Morse sending the dispatch
as dictated by Miss Annie Ellsworth, "What God hath wrought."May 24, 1844. Library of Congress

The early code used only numbers which were later “decoded” after being received via indentations on paper tape. Fellow American Alfred Vale expanded the code in 1840 to include letters.

Morse code soon became a language more easily heard than “read,” and the paper tape became unnecessary. Today’s International Morse Code was refined by Friedrich Clemens Gerke in 1848, in addition to other modifications, and was established internationally in 1865.

Morse’s original code remained the American Morse code and railroad code.

American Morse Code, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

The simple language consists of electrical pulses and the silence between them. It is easily transmitted, received, and interpreted by those who have studied and memorized the code and have been trained in its use. It has also been developed for languages other than English. However one internationally known message that is commonly recognized is the call for help: SOS, made up of three dots, three dashes, three dots.

Morse Key, cir. 1900, Wikimedia Commons | Hp.Baumeler

According to the company that sent my telegram, today’s telegrams are most often used for cancelling contracts, sending expressions of sympathy and bereavement, acknowledging celebrations such as weddings, and for communicating via the Military Postal Service.

They are sent domestically, overseas, to ships at sea, and to government representatives. And, I am happy to report, to friends recuperating in city hospitals. 

Today's telegram is ordered online and delivered on paper by a courier to the recipient's door in a sealed envelope.

You may ask, is it really a telegram if the means of transmission is the Internet and not a key as pictured above?

Samuel Morse would argue that it is not.

But for me, it was like stepping back in time to one of my stories and sending a very important message to a very import person, instantly. 

No ponies required.

~

Davalynn Spencer

Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. As the wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, she writes romance for those who enjoy a Western tale with a rugged hero, both historical and contemporary. She holds the Will Rogers Gold Medallion for Inspirational Western Fiction, teaches writing workshops, and plays the keyboard on her church worship team. When she’s not writing, teaching, or playing, she’s wrangling Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Learn more about Davalynn and her books at www.davalynnspencer.com. Sign up for her newsletter http://eepurl.com/xa81D and receive a free historical novella.

On the Backside of Pikes Peak - Divide, Colorado

 


By Davalynn  Spencer

Look for an image of Divide, Colorado, and you’ll likely find grand photographs of Colorado’s Great Divide or Continental Divide – the place in the Rocky Mountains where river systems run either toward the Pacific Ocean or toward the Atlantic and/or Gulf of Mexico, depending upon which side of the “divide” they originate.

Sunrise over Pikes Peak. Image from author's collection.

But that’s not the town of Divide, Colorado, population less than 150 souls in 2010, located 25 miles west of Colorado Springs on the north slope of Pikes Peak in Teller County. The little town was named for the dividing point of the South Platte and Arkansas rivers and is today billed as the Center of the Known Universe.

At 9,165 feet atop the summit of Ute Pass, that claim might not be far off.

The pass, first used by the ancient Ute tribes, is one of the oldest routes in the United States. Its general line remains a transportation artery today as thousands of tourists scale the mountains west of Colorado Springs via Highway 24.

In 1859, gold was discovered in the South Park area. Settlers and prospectors considered the rough and rugged Ute trail a viable route, in spite of the need to leave their wagons and teams in Colorado City and pack in their tools and food for the final 75-mile stretch. A more passable “Wagon Road” was cut in 1872, increasing the ease of reaching the gold rush to Leadville.

The Ute Pass area was acknowledged as Ute hunting grounds until it was surveyed by the U.S. government in 1870 and settlers began moving in on 160-acre plots in 1873. However, many ranches had already been established by that time.

The mountainous area was unsuitable for farming other than the open land around Divide where potatoes, lettuce, and hay crops excelled, in addition to cattle and sheep ranching. Lumbering also became a lucrative business with demand for timber increasing with mining operations and the approach of the railroad.

Many area ranchers survived by hunting, opening inns, and setting up small, portable sawmills that cut rough timber. 

In 1871 Divide served as the Spotsweed and McClellan Stage stop where teams were changed while on their way to mining camps Tarryall, Fairplay, and Leadville. 

Sixteen years later, the Colorado Midland Railroad laid tracks through Divide, bringing boarding houses, saloons, and restaurants to service railroad workers.

In my recent novella, Just in Time for Christmas, I note in the author remarks that I took creative license with the development of Divide for the purpose of my story set in 1875. At that actual time, the Divide area was more of a crossroads in El Paso County (no Teller County until 1899), and Colorado was not yet a state.  

Therefore, my novella opens with "The Catamounts, El Paso County, Colorado Territory, 1875."

Did you catch that – The Catamounts? My imagination soared when I read about ranches, lakes, and creeks bearing this name. A place like that had to be named Catamount for a reason. 

From the Mountain Lion diorama, Denver Museum of Nature and Science

 Avrand6, Wikimedia Commons

And in case you’re wondering, catamount is another word for mountain lion.

Mueller State Park, image courtesy Colorado Parks and Wildlife.

Today, the beautiful 5,000-acre Mueller State Park draws visitors to the Divide area, as does the historic Midland Depot Complex, the Catamount Recreation Area, and America’s mountain, Pikes Peak (no possessive apostrophe in the name). 

If you’re looking for a high time, try visiting Divide, Colorado, and travel along the early migration route of the Mountain Utes that was later used by Spanish, French, and American explorers, settlers, miners, and ranchers of the Old West.

Davalynn Spencer

Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. As the wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, she writes romance for those who enjoy a Western tale with a rugged hero, both historical and contemporary. She holds the Will Rogers Gold Medallion for Inspirational Western Fiction, teaches writing workshops, and plays the keyboard on her church worship team. When she’s not writing, teaching, or playing, she’s wrangling Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Learn more about Davalynn and her books at www.davalynnspencer.com. Become a newsletter friend and receive a free historical novella: http://eepurl.com/xa81D.

Have an Animal Cracker! - and a Giveaway

 By Davalynn Spencer

Crackers are my downfall. Especially those that are slightly sweet. Somehow, I feel less guilty for binging, um, I mean eating a few.

No cooking required, right? Add a hot cup of tea or coffee, and I have a perfect meal substitute to fuel me through a writing project. Maybe that’s why D.F. Stauffer's animal crackers showed up in my latest novella, Just in Time for Christmas.

The year 1875 in the Old West saw most people preparing their own food with few exceptions: those who could afford to hire a cook or eat at cafés and hotels, and those who showed up on time during a cattle drive for whatever Cookie had prepared.

There were no fast-food places, unless one considered hard tack and jerked beef fast food. If so, that fare could be found a short reach away in one’s saddlebags.

American tastes for British “biscuits” (crackers) ensured the import of such delectables from England, which led domestic bakers to try their hand at the craft. (The term “cracker” was reportedly coined by New York baker Josiah Bent in 1801 for a crunchy biscuit/cookie.)

D.F. Stauffer and son Albert in the Stauffer's Steam Biscuit Bakery delivery wagon, 1989.
(Image from author's collection: A Cookbook, by D.F. Stauffer, York, PA Mennonite Biscuit Cookie Company)

D.F. Stauffer Biscuit Company’s famous animal-shaped crackers first showed up in York, Pennsylvania, in 1871. According to the introduction in A Cookbook, by D.F. Stauffer, David F. Stauffer began his venture with five barrels of crackers from a business founded in 1858 by Jacob Weiser. The Stauffer cracker barrels were delivered by wheelbarrow. Today, Stauffer's products are delivered by semi-tractor trailers across the United States and several other countries. 

Two additional Stauffer bakeries also produce animal crackers and other products in Cuba, New York, and Santa Ana, California. Some crackers come in unique flavors, such as cheddar-cheese whales and ginger-flavored “snaps,” but animal crackers remain their best seller. 

From author's "collection." Stauffer's Animal Crackers

In the 1800s, other domestic bakeries joined forces as the New York Biscuit Company in 1889. The National Biscuit Company formed in 1898, which we recognize today as Nabisco.

Over the years, conglomerate mergers have swallowed the once privately owned bakeries. But Stauffer’s Animal Crackers live on (not to be confused with Nabisco’s Barnum Animals of 1902 origin). 

From author's collection.

According to the stauffers.com web site, Stauffer's is currently owned by Meiji Seika of Japan. There are currently 13 animal-cracker shapes. My favorite, of course, was always the horse. 

Thirteen animal shapes still offered today by Stauffer's Animal Crackers.
Image courtesy Wikipedia.

What about you? Do you (or did you) have a favorite animal-cracker shape? Regardless of its origin, share your chosen animal shape in the comments below, and I’ll toss your name in the cookie tin for a drawing. The randomly-chosen winner will receive a signed print copy of A High-Country Christmas Romance Collection which includes Just in Time for Christmas.

Happy munching!

Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. As the wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, she writes romance for those who enjoy a Western tale with a rugged hero, both historical and contemporary. She holds the Will Rogers Gold Medallion for Inspirational Western Fiction, teaches writing workshops, and plays the keyboard on her church worship team. When she’s not writing, teaching, or playing, she’s wrangling Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Learn more about Davalynn and her books at www.davalynnspencer.com. Become a newsletter friend and receive a free historical novella: http://eepurl.com/xa81D.

A Cowboy's Wild Rag in Jacquard Silk

By Davalynn Spencer

It’s rare that you’ll see an image of an Old West cowboy without a neckerchief, scarf, or wild rag around his neck in some fashion. It might be hanging loose and low the way Kevin Costner wore his dirty-gray neckerchief in the 2003 film, “Open Range,” or pulled up closer to the throat, maybe over the mouth and nose if the man is riding drag on a herd of cattle or holding up a stagecoach.

Snake hunter with a loose bandana. Definitely not Kevin Costner. Pixabay

Today you’re likely to find the accessory wrapped twice around the neck and tied off with a fancy buckaroo knot or silver concho. And not just on men. Women and men both sport the silky wild rags in colors that far outshine Costner’s dirty gray.

Horsewoman with a jacquard-weave silk scarf tied in a buckaroo knot. Pixabay

Scarves of some form have been worn for practical reasons by Roman soldiers, pirates, early Americans and countless others. In the 1800s, upper-class gentlemen wore silk cravats. This neckwear gave way to a loosely-tied bandana among the working class, who used the cloth against the assaults of both dust and sweat. If no other cloth was handy, a big square cut of flour sack would do. However, paisley print was particularly popular and still is today among the wild rag-wearing working cowboys of the American West.

The term wild rag differs from a standard neckerchief and refers to a larger square of cloth, anywhere from 35 to 50 inches. Silk is the preferred fabric due to its versatility. It warms a rider’s neck in winter and keeps it cool from sunburn in the summer.

Jacquard (pronounced: juh-kaard) scarves offer a unique tone-on-tone pattern that lends silk a more sophisticated look. The weave raises warp threads independently of the others, and incorporates a pattern into the fabric itself, eliminating the need for the pattern to be dyed or printed, though some scarves carry both impressions – the weave and a dyed print.

Note the floral pattern woven into the scarf, creating a jacquard gray-on-gray effect.
A pattern in black is also printed on the scarf. Author's photo.

The term jacquard is coined after the inventor of the loom attachment required for the distinguished weave, French weaver, Joseph Marie Jacquard, 1752-1834. His invention of a punch-card programmable loom began as early as 1801 and was perfected over the next few years.

In 1804, Napoleon observed Jacquard’s programmable loom in Lyon, France, and granted a patent to Lyon and a pension and royalty to Jacquard.

The Jacquard weave is said to make the silk more pliable, but it definitely makes it more sophisticated, and subtle sophistication is a cowboy’s hallmark, from the jinglebobs on his spurs to the shape of his hat.

I learned to tie a buckaroo knot. It took me only 15 minutes
watching the two-minute video tutorial on YouTube. Author's photo.

A cowboy’s wild rag can be used to keep dust and grit out of his mouth, tie his hat down and hobble his horse, strain muddy water for drinking, bind up a wound, supply a tourniquet, handle a hot coffee pot, flag a race, sling an arm, blow a nose, or blindfold an ornery bronc.

But maybe most important of all, a good jacquard-silk wild rag is sure to catch the eye of a pretty little gal at the rodeo.

~

Abigale wiped her fingers on the towel and picked up the scarf, letting it spill like a green waterfall on the table. It was big enough for Seth to wrap around his throat twice, as ranchers did.

“He asked me to marry him last night. Well—in a way. He didn’t really ask. It was closer to telling.”

“And you didn’t take that well, did you.” Ida chuckled and sipped her coffee. “Nor should you. Never let him ride roughshod over you, but neither forget that he loves you. It will make all the difference in your partnership. If you choose to marry him, that is.”

“Mams would have said to have faith.”

“And she’d be right,” Ida said. “Faith is something we carry with us. Trust, on the other hand, is something we do. The two work together, like the light and darker weave in that jacquard-patterned scarf.”

Ida gave Abigale’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I won’t tell you to follow your heart. But I will tell you that God gives us faith so we can trust Him. He’ll let you know. All you have to do is ask.”   ~from A High-Country Christmas: Romance Collection

Thanksgiving in the Old West - and a Giveaway

By Davalynn Spencer

A close friend of mine is having chicken and dumplings for Thanksgiving dinner this year because that’s what her grandson requested.

Works for me.

Typically, it’s hard to imagine the big Thanksgiving spread without a turkey in the middle of the table surrounded by all the fixin’s such as that depicted in Norman Rockwell’s famous painting from the 1940s, Freedom from Want.

Freedom from Want by Norman Rockwell - Public domain
via the National Archives and Records Administration

But sixty to seventy years earlier on the Western frontier, the main dish could have been deer, fish, goose, corned beef, roast beef, tongue (bovine or bison), ham, or quail stew.

Quail on my home front huddling beneath a Colorado blue spruce.

Cranberry sauce and pies were fairly universal, though I imagine those cranberries had to be ordered ahead of time from wherever cranberries grew. Creative cooks might have substituted well-seeded chokecherries, currants, or some such. Dried apple or pumpkin pies were common, as were sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, pickles, root vegetables, and cake.

And let’s not forget baked beans, vinegar pie, and the West’s constant standby of fresh biscuits and stout coffee.

Kansas City hotels in the late 1880s reportedly offered oysters, elk, squirrel, opossum, shrimp, and other delectables. I’d probably be late for supper if squirrel was on the menu.

From as early as 1621, people in what became the United States of America celebrated a fall harvest festival during which they thanked God for protection and provision, sharing their feast with neighbors and friends.

The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth, by Jennie August Brownscombe.
This 1925 painting corrected her 1914 depiction of Plains Indians rather than tribes common
to the Plymouth area. Public domain via the National Museum of Women in the Arts.

George Washington first proclaimed a latter Thursday of November as a day of thanksgiving, but not until 1863, during President Abraham Lincoln’s term, was Thanksgiving recognized as a federal holiday. I imagine for many, this call to give thanks during America’s Civil War served as a poignant reminder and challenge.

It has long been touted that early American Benjamin Franklin believed the common turkey to be more honorable than the bald eagle when decisions were being made about the national bird. Much of the tale is hearsay, though in retrospect, it’s hard to imagine the humble turkey replacing the majestically depicted bald eagle.

It’s also hard to imagine a featherless eagle centerpiece on my Thanksgiving table.

However, I have heard of people fending off angry gobblers that had other ideas about what should be served for supper.

What’s on your menu this year? Comment below to have your name tossed in the drawing for an e-copy of my Thanksgiving tale, Mail-order Misfire. And have a blessed and thanks-filled Thanksgiving, whether you celebrate singularly or in the company of others.

~

Wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. She writes award-winning Western romance with rugged heroes, teaches writing workshops, and refuses to put her quail in a stew. She plays the keyboard on her church worship team and wrangles Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Connect with her at www.davalynnspencer.com.

Old West Firefighting

By Davalynn Spencer

When I was a child, my mother drove down Main Street one afternoon past a burning building, and I asked her if Daddy was helping fight the fire.

She was aghast and insisted that no such thing would ever happen, for Daddy was a farmer.

That evening, my father walked in the front door, covered in soot and smelling of smoke and wet ash.

He’d been fighting the fire.

I have no clue to why’s or how’s, nor any recollection of hearing what started the fire, but I will never forget how Daddy looked and smelled.

As an adult, my now-unanswerable questions focus on how my father ended up in town, miles away from our farm, trying to extinguish a fire that gutted a corner building on Main Street. And I wonder if it had something to do with stories he’d heard from his carpenter father who fought in the great San Francisco Fire of 1906.

My grandfather and everyone he knew fought in that earthquake-induced fire. Everyone who could walk or run or carry a bucket. Historians say the San Francisco fires burned four days and four nights. Many were set by people whose property was not insured against earthquakes but was insured against fire. Nearly 3,000 people died in the disaster that destroyed 80 percent of the sparkling city.

Fire is a force long welcomed by man for its light, warmth, and protection. Yet it also destroys and kills. Controlling it has been an age-old challenge. Extinguishing it has grown into a science.

Several fires occur in my novel, An unexpected Redemption, set along Colorado’s Front Range in 1881. My fictional town of Olin Springs was patterned after many Old West towns that fought flames with bucket brigades manned by able-bodied volunteers.

Men working a bucket brigade along the Niukluk River to put out a fire,
Council, Alaska, circa 1907 - Wikimedia Commons.

Neighbors either joined the hand-to-hand process of passing water-filled buckets one at a time down a line of volunteers, or they donated buckets to be used. Sometimes they did both. In larger cities, people typically painted their name and address on the bucket so they could be picked up after the fire.

However, any kind of hand-to-hand combat is tedious and slow. The futility of bucket-brigade intervention gave rise to hose teams such as the Relief Hook & Ladder Fire Company No. I, established January 27, 1879 in the actual town of Cañon City, Colorado, manned by twenty-three volunteers. The early hose teams pulled giant reels upon which spooled a hundred feet or more of water hose that would be connected to handpumpers also operated by volunteers who pulled handles on either side of the tank.

The "Franklin" end-stroke torrent pumper, manufactured by William C. Hunneman Company. Hunneman was an apprentice of Paul Revere who revolutionized fire-fighting by developing hand pumped fire equipment. The output was similar to a modern water cannon. Ferndale Enterprise photograph from the collection of the Ferndale Museum. Circa 1890 - Wikimedia Commons.

Eastern and Midwestern cities had fire departments and hose teams long before the West, and these often developed into fraternal organizations. In addition to hose teams and handpumpers, firefighters also had “bed keys” with which to disassemble beds so they could be quickly removed from burning structures. Before gas lines and similar accelerants, residents had time to remove valuables from their property. Beds were often the most valuable piece of furniture they owned.

Horses joined the teams in the early 1800s, pulling manually operated pumps and early fire “engines.” Of course, in the West, this advancement came even later for smaller communities. Just before the turn of the century, Cañon City put a two-horse team into service, Chief and Taylor, who pulled the heavy wagon laden with hose and ladders.

In 1910 Chief and Taylor were retired and replaced by Tom and Dexter who, five years later, stepped aside for a 1915 Buick touring car modified with hose and ladder attachments, according to Larry Thomas Ward, author of Cañon City Colorado.

Canon City Fire Department, 1912. Left to Right: George Padgett, Assistant Captain;
Charles McKissick, Sr., Captain; George Cassidy, Chief; and Fred Priest, Plugman.
Horses, Tom and Dexter. Photo courtesy of the Royal Gorge Regional Museum and History Center
as pictured in Canon City Colorado by Larry Thomas Ward.

Steam-powered pumps eventually replaced hand pumps and horses, and technology evolved and improved along with building structure and height.

Roughly twenty-six miles from Cañon City as the proverbial crow flies, the gold-mining town of Cripple Creek, Colorado, suffered two back-to-back fires in April 1896 that nearly destroyed the town.

An overturned gasoline stove was blamed for starting the fire of April 25, driven by high winds to take the lives of two people and eight blocks of the business district. On April 29, the second fire reportedly broke out in the Portland Hotel kitchen on Second Street and jumped to consume neighboring buildings. Other structures were blown up by firefighters using readily available dynamite in a fruitless effort to stop the fire. Altogether, 6,000 people were left homeless.

During reconstruction, wooden structures were banned by the town council, and Cripple Creek was soon up and running again.

From neighbor- and family manned bucket brigades to highly trained specialists of today, those who have braved the flames on the behalf of others remain some of our most revered heroes.

~

An Unexpected Redemption

Wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. She writes award-winning Western romance with rugged heroes, teaches writing workshops, and plays the keyboard on her church worship team – when she’s not wrangling Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Connect with her at www.davalynnspencer.com.

Gold in Them Thar Hills - and a Giveaway!

 by Davalynn Spencer

The Gold Rush isn’t over in Colorado. It resurfaces every year in late September through mid-October as high-country aspen and lower country cottonwoods exchange their summer greens for glimmering gold and fiery reds.

Colorado's aspen groves line highways and mingle
with evergreen forests. - Author's photo

“There’s gold in them thar hills,” people have been known to say, and they flock to the Rocky Mountains like migrating geese for a gander at the scenery.

This coming weekend officially introduces fall to our calendars. Even so, it’s often hard to predict exactly when peak foliage viewing times will be. According to arborists, scientists, and others in the know, catching the colors in their prime is all about chlorophyll and temperatures. And elevation.

Author's photo of Rocky Mountain color in an early fall snowstorm.

The higher the elevation, the earlier autumn swishes her lovely skirts along the Rocky Mountains. A general rule of thumb for viewing fall foliage in colorful Colorado calls for higher-elevation stands and those located farther north to flash sooner than lower, southerly sites.

Colorado’s famous aspen trees and their poorer cousin, the cottonwood (both are in the poplar family), change colors for the same reason other deciduous trees do: photosynthesis decreases as daylight hours lessen in the fall.

Have you noticed in early September that daylight seems to have cut loose and run? That’s because we lose an hour of daylight during the month of August as the earth tilts toward autumn. And we are not the only living beings that feel it.

Technically, the leaves of these trees don’t change from greens to golds – the color range is there all along, like stars in the sky that we can’t see during the day. Yellows, oranges, and reds are merely masked by the green hues until chlorophyll production fades.

Author's photo

The United States National Arboretum says a wet growing season followed by a drier, clear-sky autumn and cool nights generate the brightest colors. In addition, unhealthy trees are less vibrant than healthy trees, much like other growing things, including humans.

Colorado is not the only state to harbor aspen trees, and they thrive in higher, colder regions with cool summers. The trees are often called quaking aspens due to the longer, flatter petiole, or leaf stem, that allows the leaves to flutter in the slightest breeze.

Aspen leaves "quake" due to their longer leaf stem. -Author's photo.

Aspens grow in colonies connected via underground root systems. The oldest known colony is found in the Fishlake National Forest of Utah, where it covers roughly 106 acres.

Comment to be entered in a drawing: I’d love to hear about a trip you took to see the colors – even if it was just around the block. Those who comment below will be entered in a random drawing for an e-copy of my latest release, Mail-order Misfire, Book 2 of the Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection.

Wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, Davalynn Spencer writes cowboy romance. She is an ECPA and Publisher’s Weekly bestselling author and winner of the Will Rogers Gold Medallion for Inspirational Western Fiction. And she’s fairly certain that her previous career as a rodeo journalist and crime-beat reporter prepared her for life in Colorado wrangling Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Connect with her via her website at www.davalynnspencer.com.