Timex, One Crappy Clock Radio

     In December, I blogged about getting a new clock radio, something I really depend on, but was having trouble finding in a store.  I was overjoyed when at last I found a Timex clock radio in a store in Prince George, after striking out multiple times.  It didn’t take me long to discover that my happiness at getting the new clock radio was ill deserved, the Timex turned out to be a piece of junk.

    See all of the titles by the buttons on the top?  Well, it turned out most of them were just suggestions, not something that would actually happen, if you pressed them.

    There are two buttons for setting the alarm, so you can set two different times to wake up.   Supposedly, you can press the buttons and set the time you want to wake up.  After trying to set the first alarm time, I finally just gave up.  While trying to set the alarm time, at one point, just stopped moving the clock.  It stopped at 2:30 in the afternoon, something I didn’t want, but I couldn’t change.  I couldn’t even turn the alarm time off, so every day at 2:30 in the afternoon, the radio came on. 

    I then tried to set 7:00 AM, the time I wanted to wake up, on the other alarm.  I was able to successfully set it correctly, but I was unable to get the clock to unset the alarm for those days I didn’t want to wake up at 7:00, so the alarm went off whether I wanted it or not.  

    I always liked to  use the “Sleep” function on clock radios.  Often, if I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep, I turn on Sleep mode, then set how many minutes I want it to play, before it turns itself off.  Unfortunately, sometimes when I hit the Sleep button, instead of showing the time to stay on, it changes the radio station, giving me static.  That is not something I want to have to deal with in the darkness of the middle of the night.

    Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night and turn on the Sleep button, I hear a program I don’t really want to listen to, so I slide my finger over to the radio ON-Off button to turn it off, and for some reason, instead of turning off the radio, it increases the volume, something else I don’t want to hear in the middle of the night.  The electronic wiring for the function buttons seem to be all random, intertwined, and messed up.  The forty dollars I spent on the Timex clock radio, was money wasted.

    Yesterday, we did another shopping day in Prince George.  I remembered that the store where I got the Timex clock radio, also had Sony clock radios, and so I forked out $50, for one of them.  I sure hope I have better luck with that one, than I had with the Timex.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

The Bumble Bees Are Out

     While it seems that Spring is taking its time getting here (last week we had several mornings when we woke up to a dusting of snow on the ground), Spring’s tardiness has not stopped Nature from getting out.  I was surprised yesterday, to see some Bumble Bees checking the few small blooms that have sprouted in the yard.

    There are no big flowers in bloom yet, but there are a few very small flowering plants that are in bloom.  The bees don’t seem to mind how small the blooms are, as long as they provide them with some nectar, and I guess the flowers are accommodating, because the bees are spending a lot of time crawling around the flowers.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

An Aurora

     Settling in to go to sleep was a bit chaotic last night.  I was in my bed and almost to slumberland, when my wife told me that Kona wanted to go outside, so I went downstairs, slipped on my gum boots, and carried Kona out into the cold darkness.  Kona did what she had to do and so I carried her back inside the house, climbed the stairs, and tried to retrace the road to sleep.

    Again I was just about there when I heard crickets from my iPhone.  I had chosen the cricket sound as my alert that I was getting a text message.  I figured that since it was just after 11:00, it must have been a scam text, so I decided to just ignore it.  Then thinking about it, I realized that instead of the usual must one cricket alert, I got three in quick succession, which was unusual.  

    Still thinking about it, two thoughts came to me:   I had read there had been a prediction of auroras on Friday night, and it was Friday night.  The second thought was of Ingrid, who lives just up the road.  We had often talked about auroras, and she had seen a spectacular one that I had missed, so I wondered if she was texting me about watching one.  

    I reached over and looked at my phone.  Sure enough, Ingrid had sent me two photos of an aurora she was seeing at her house.  I grabbed my phone and went out into the dark, bracing, night air to see if I could see and aurora.  There was a slight greenish hue in the sky, but when I set my phone’s camera  to “Night Mode” I could see the bright green of the aurora quite clearly.  I walked around the property and took a slew of photos.  

    Here are three of them.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Our Poor Designer "Doodle Dog" Can't Even Sit Properly

     For years now, dog breeders have been raking in the cash, breeding “Doodle Dogs” (all kinds other breeds to poodles).   They breed Labradoodles (Labrador Retriever-Poodle mix), Goldendoodles (Golden  Retriever-Poodle), Bernedoodles (Bernese Mountain Dog-Poodle mix) etc, etc.  You get the idea.  Everyone wanted a mixed poodle bred dog.  Sadly, it seems more attention was paid to selling puppies, than to the genetics of these designer dogs, and as a result, many dogs have been created and sold with horrible genetic problems.

    Our dog Kona is one of them.  Kona is a Bordoodle, a mix of Border Collie and Poodle.  She is a rescue dog that we got for free from her previous owners.  They told us she had joint problems, but we accepted that she might develop complications in the future.  She was still a young dog when we got her, and she was very energetic and normal.  However, now as she ages, very serious problems are starting to show.

    After our last vet visit where an X-ray of Kona was done, we were told that basically, Kona has no hip sockets, and her legs are held in place by scar tissue.  Kona can no longer walk,  she is able to stagger upright, when she needs to pee or poop, and shuffle like a seal when she needs to move a bit.  I have to carry her outside when she needs to do her business and carry her from room to room, when necessary.  

    With all of her problems, Kona remains stoic and very affectionate.  We have been giving her several pain-killers daily.  

    In the photo above, you can see that she can’t even sit properly.  At first glance of the photo, things seem normal, but look at the position of her rear legs in the shadow.   Normally a sitting dog will have one leg of her rear legs on the right side and the other on her left side.  Whenever Kona sits, she has both of her rear legs on the same side.

    It is very sad to see Kona struggling to deal with such difficulties, but like I said, she is very stoic and still full of eagerness, and spark.

    It is depressing to know that so many dog breeders are still so eager for money, that they ignore the genetics of the dogs they breed.

    Buyer, beware.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

The Beauty of Open Water

     After months of being buried under ice and snow, my pond has now melted.  This morning it was showing off what it can do on a very still, calm day.  It was proudly reflecting the pristine white snow of the Cariboo Mountain Range on the other side of the Valley. 

    This mirror-like presentation doesn’t happen very often, usually there is a breeze that ripples the surface.  Seeing the Cariboos all snow-white and totally unobscured, is also rare.  Now, an hour or so after taking the photo, white puffy clouds are already starting to hide the very tops of the mountains.  

    I was glad that I had my iPhone in my pocket when I went out to feed the birds early this morning.  I am still very impressed with its zoom, that allows me to compose the view with just the features I am interested in.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Just Below The Snow Line

     It is common knowledge that the higher you go in elevation, the colder it gets.  Yesterday there was visual proof of that across the road on the mountain slope.  We were getting a wet snowfall, which melted when it hit the ground at our place, but just a bit higher on the slope, it was a bit colder and the snow was sticking to the trees.  

    This is not an uncommon sight.    The Robson Valley bottomland across the Fraser River from us, has an elevation of 2,330 ft (710m).   The elevation of our house is 2,408 ft (734m) and those trees with the snow on them is about 2,500 ft i(750m) in elevation.  Even that small difference in elevation can create differences in temperature.

    I just got back from driving into McBride, and again I could see snow on the trees growing on the mountain slope, while there was no snow on the lower trees on the slope and in the field at its base.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Back When Lucifer Was Constant Trouble

     Here is something I blogged about in 2013:  

        My wife noticed the pile of stuff in front of my computer, she thought that it was just one of my messes. (“How can you work like this, David?”)  I had to then explain to her that it was just my attempt to keep our cat Lucifer from blocking out my computer monitor by standing in front of it, as I worked.  You can see from the photo, it worked.  If Lucy does get interested in the moving cursor on the screen, she, a least, has to now watch it from the side, which allows me to still see what I am doing on the computer.

        Sadly, Lucifer and Kona our dog, (like their owners) are really starting to suffer from the effects of old age.  I have mentioned before how I now have to carry Kona everywhere, because she can no longer walk.  Lucifer, who is now just skin and bones, can no longer jump upon my desk and get in the way of my computer, those days are over for her.

    In the past, Lucifer made a cozy home of a padded folding chair covered over with a blanket, making a cave-like space for her, but now she no longer uses that as her home base, I assume because she can no longer jump into it.  Now she stays close to the ground and has adopted an old box I made for collecting my student’s work when I was teaching that was sitting on the floor of my office, as her sleeping place.

    It is hard to watch the declining activity in our pets, and realize that their lives, like ours, have an expiration date, but for now they are still doing what they can, not complaining, and showing affection to us, as we are showing to them.

   Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Tomatoes and Chili Peppers to Come

     While outside, spring seems to be taking its time in coming, inside the house, this year’s gardening plants are developing as they should.   Above you see the result of the seeds I had planted when there was still snow on the ground outside.  The coloring of the photo might seem a bit off, but that is because the plants are under some grow lights.

    This is the start of the rather frustrating time, when the plants are starting to get big enough and should be transplanted into pots, but it is still too cold to keep them in the greenhouse, and once they are potted, they will really take up a lot of space, which is not available under the grow lights.   What I usually do is pot them, then keep the plotted plants in the house overnight, then cart them out to the greenhouse so they can get some sun during the day. 

    The greenhouse is usually warm enough for the plants during the day, it is just the nights when it is too cold in the greenhouse.  This moving of plants usually works out okay, although it gets to be a hassle carting them them back and forth every day.

    It will probably be a month, before I can actually plant the tomatoes and chilis into the soil in the greenhouse.  

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Pond Ice Disappearing

     I always look forward to seeing the winter ice on the pond start the melt.  The pond is so much more attractive when you can see it reflecting the sky once again.  It will be a couple more days before the ice is totally gone.  

    Yesterday when I walked around the pond, I was pleased to see that the pair of Hooded Mergansers had returned.  They have been coming for about 10 years  The female nests in a box on a tree and if everything goes as planned she will latter have a string of ducklings swimming behind her when they hatch.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Anniversary of Dylan's First Professional Performance

     This morning on the radio, the broadcaster said that today was the 65th Anniversary of Bob Dylan’s first professional performance, which occurred at Gerde’s Folk City in New York City.  Nineteen year old Dylan was the opening act for bluesman, John Lee Hooker.

    Dylan became very important to me, before he really became known generally to the public.  When I was in high school, I became very interested in folk music.  I read a lot of the folk music magazines that were available at the time.  I was blown away when in 1963, I heard Peter, Paul, and Mary sing Blowin’ in the Wind, and was very interested to know who could write such a profound song.  I read it was some guy named Bob Dylan and I was anxious to learn more about him.  I had never heard him sing, but he was creating quite a buzz with his songwriting.

    My close friend Greg, was also very interested in Dylan, and Greg was in a record club, and one month, “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan” album, was one of the choices for the month, so Greg bought the album.  We were both curious to hear him sing.  When Greg’s record arrived, he called me to tell me it was awful, it sounded terrible.  Later he said I could have the album.

    I took it and listened, I too was initially taken aback by his singing, which at the time, was way beyond what was normal.  However, after listening to the album, I soon became accustom to his nasal-raw sounding voice, and fell in love with his songs and guitar playing.   Greg too, eventually got accustom with Dylan’s voice, and became a super fan.

    Dylan’s music has had a lifelong effect on me.  I followed Dylan’s music through his folk beginnings and protest songs, which I loved.  Then when he caused mayhem in the purist folk community by playing rock and roll, I stayed with him and loved his rock and roll.  I did kind of lose interest when he started doing country music, and totally quit following him when got religious.

    Many of Dylan’s songs are still on my radar.  Our jam plays a handful of them.  We started playing his “Chimes of Freedom” in our protest to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and vowed to keep on playing weekly until Russia quit, so after several years of playing it, we are getting pretty good at the song.

    I love remembering those early years when I was so intensely following Dylan’s songs, and trying to figure out how to play them on my guitar (this was way before you could just learn from a video on the internet).   I learned a lot from listening to Dylan’s music, both when done by him, but also by groups like The Byrds and the Band.  

    Dylan’s rise, totally changed the direction of music, and ushered in the whole genre of singer-songwriters, which led to more poetic, intelligent, and poignant lyrics in music.

  

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Cartoon: Tax Burden

     The term “Tax Burden” generally refers to a huge amount of money to be paid in taxes.  With me, the term refers to the difficultly I have to motivate myself to organize all of that information needed to have my taxes done.  

    I used to struggle, I mean really struggle, to do my own income tax.  I had a small business, a small farm, and of course, just the taxes from working at the full time job at the BC Forest Service.  Trying to figure out how to fill out all of the tax forms, left me totally bewildered and frustrated, but I muddled through the best I could.

    Now, I hire a local business to do my taxes, but I still find it burdensome just to organize all of the information that I need to submit to them, so they can do my taxes.  Throughout the year, I try to conscientiously save all of the needed receipts for the taxes, so it shouldn’t be that difficult for me to organize it, but I am finding it so hard just to make myself put it all together.

    I know down in the States, they have until April 15th to submit their taxes.  Fortunately, up here in Canada, I have until the end of the month, but I know I’d better get at it pretty soon.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Camouflaged Ruffed Grouse

     With their colored patterns of browns, grays, and blacks, the Ruffed Grouse blends in nicely with its wooded surroundings.  The chicken-like bird uses its camouflage very effectively, by standing very still.  A person probably would not see the bird unless it moved.  That was the case the other day when I was walking around the pond.  Had the grouse stood still and not moved, I wouldn’t have noticed it, but as I ambled unaware, closer, down the path, it started to quickly walk away.

    Grouse always seem so vulnerable.  They spend most of their time scratching around in the leaf litter on the forest floor, and their brownish coloration doesn’t help them much in the winter, so I am always happy to see the ones that have survived through the winter.  

    I suspect this one is a male, with his spread-out fan-like tail.  Later in the spring, we hear the males  making a drum-like rhythm as they stand on a fallen log, trying to attract a female for mating.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

The Last of Sadie's Montana Homesteading Memoir

     The photo shows the part of the 320 acres of land that Sadie, my grandmother, obtained by homesteading in Montana, beginning in 1911.  The land is now owned by my brother.

    Here is the final part of the short memoir that Sadie wrote about her homesteading experience:

    I often feel like the Oscar winners when they receive their Oscars.  I could not have done my homesteading if it had not been for all of the good people that helped me.  People invited me into their  homes, they loaned me horses, and hauled water to me.  Water was a problem as wells could not be found very often.  In winter I melted snow and in summer I carried water from reservoirs.  This water was full of little crawling creatures and had to be strained and boiled.  

    I remember the time after a big blizzard, I looked out of the window and saw a lone rider coming down the lane.  He said his wife could not sleep because she knew there was a young woman down there alone and she was afraid I needed something  I assured him there was nothing I needed and he wended his way back through the drifted snow.  It warmed my heart.  It was a wonderful gesture that someone cared that much for someone that they did not know or had never seen.

    (Although Sadie never wrote it in this memoir, she once told us that during those frigid winter’s nights, she would often sleep with potatoes under the covers to keep them from freezing.)

    I had an outside cellar and one day during harvesting, I was going in for something and I heard a rustle.  Looking down I saw a large rattler.  I took one leap and was out of the cellar.  I went into the cabin and told the girls who were helping me feed the harvesters.  On of the girls was real brave.  She said she was not afraid to go in.  She started down the steps and she not only saw one snake, but two.  It did not take her long to get out.  I closed the cellar door forever and decided the snakes wanted it more than I did.

    I had traveled back to South Dakota for Christmas, on my last leave of absence and returned to Montana in a blizzard.  When the train reached Havre, the thermometer had dropped “out of sight” so the conductor told us.  I stopped at Great Falls to go to the land office to announce my return then went out to Floweree where I was to pick up some of my belongings that Gertrude Trackwell had borrowed, since she had just filed a claim.  They dropped me off me at my cabin and left.

    When I went in to make my bed, I discovered someone had entered my cabin and stolen all of my bedding.  I had to sit up all night and keep my little stove red hot to keep from freezing to death, as it was bitter cold.  I walked to the neighbors the next day and remained there until I could get to Great Falls and purchase more bedding.  

    I regretted losing my army blankets that kept me so warm no matter how cold it was.  Thats was in February and in May of that year, (1914) I “proved up” on my homestead and the land officially became mine.  You will remember it was to have been five years, but thanks to new legislation that had been passed, the required residency time was reduced to three years.

    The day came when I had to say goodbye to all of the fine friends I had made and we knew that we probably would never see each other again.  I returned home to South Dakota to a very proud father.  My homesteading experience made all that would later come in my life, easy.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

More Homestead Hardships Remembered by Sadie

     In her old age Sadie painted the picture above showing how she remembered her homestead in Montana.  Below her memories continue:

    My second school was about 13 miles from my place.  It was known as Castor School.  I boarded with a family by the name of Howell.  They had two boys, the oldest was a boy in his early teens, and he used to let me ride his pony back to my place on Friday night as it was quite a walk.  

    One Sunday when I returned to their house, he was in bed and his mother told me he was very ill.  I realized that when I heard him moaning.  He was one of my pupils and I knew he was not putting on an act.  This went on for a couple of days.

    His father was a railroader and was not at home.  The mother sat as if she were in a trance.  I realized something had to be done, so I walked over to the home of Mr. Castor who was on the school board and he drove me twenty miles to see a nurse.  We brought her back with us and she said that she felt certain he had osteomyelitis, as his leg had started to turn black.  

    She advised us to get him to the Great Falls Hospital at once.  The mother went with hm and the grandmother came to stay with us.  He was in the hospital for over a year.  The doctors wanted to amputate, but he would not let them.  I learned after I left Montana that he recovered enough to walk.

    It seemed as if everything happened at this place.  I killed my first Diamond-back rattlesnake as it was sunning itself in the yard.

    One Sunday when I was out on a picnic with some of the young folks, the lightning struck the house where I was boarding, and tore off the front of the house.  I had to take my belongings (what was left of them, as some were destroyed by fire) and hunt for a new boarding place.

    I remember once when I was riding the pony home and feeling pretty lonely (as my days sometimes looked, as if there was nothing good in sight), I happened to glance up and see a lonely bird winging along.  My students had been memorizing the poem, “To A Waterfowl” and that last stanza came to my mind:

    He, who, from zone to zone,

    Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,

    In the long way that I must trace alone,

    Will lead my steps aright.

My paintings can be seen at:  davidmarchant2.ca

More of Sadie's Montana Homesteading Memories

      I remember, as probably others do, of a night in winter when we had gone to church to some function and a blizzard developed.  We were not able to go home and someone suggested we go to Mr. Ainley’s store and spend the night.  We made coffee and sandwiches and played games until morning.

    One Saturday morning Rosemary Trackwell and I started the hike to my cabin.  We had gone about four miles when we saw a wagon approaching.  The two men stopped and asked us if we wanted a ride.  Rosemary was getting tired so we climbed up on the high spring seat atop several side boards.  We had not gone far when we noticed a motorcycle coming, (an almost unheard of thing in those days).  We asked the driver if his horses would be afraid of the machine and he said he did not think so.

    When that motorcycle got closer to us, those horses when crazy.  The driver was thrown from the wagon and the other man jumped out, leaving Rosemary and I stranded in the racing wagon, pulled with wild, runaway horses.  I saw we were headed toward a deep coulee and I yelled for Rosemary to jump. 

    We leaped from the wagon and I hit the ground with such force that I just doubled up.  I could not get my breath and they carried me up to the hotel at Carter.  I was put to bed where I remained for the day.  I did not seem to be hurt, but I was in shock.

    The horses had veered their course and straddled a barb wire fence, and finally hit a telephone pole.  One horse was so badly cut from the fence that it died.

    I had such wonderful neighbors.  The nearest was Mrs. James Cullen from Wisconsin.  We had an understanding - if I needed anything I would hang a white sheet outside my house.  Some other good neighbors were the Jim Morarity’s from Chicago.  Little Mrs. Morarity never quite adjusted to the rugged life.  She was always wishing she could be walking down Madison Avenue in a white suit with a bouquet of violets pinned to her lapel.  

    One winter’s day after a big blizzard when through, when the snow was very deep, she saw me walking across the country to Carter and remarked to her husband, “I do not believe that Miss Carr has any feeling, going out on a day like this”.  What she did not know was that Miss Carr had to sit in the dark the night before because she was out of coal oil.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

1911: Sadie's Homesteading Adventure Continues

         This blog continues with the story I started yesterday about my grandmother, who at the age of 21 set out on her own, to homestead in the prairie of Montana.

    It was a lot of fun to fix up my cabin.  I stenciled curtains for the windows, and made bookcases and cupboards out of the wooden boxes and creates that my good were shipped in.  It was my first, very own home and with 320 acres of land which would be mine someday — I was happy.  I could go to bed when I pleased and get up when I pleased (something I could never do at home).

    My first school was near Floweree.  I boarded with Mr. and Mrs. Trackwell, who had a daughter named Rosemary.  They were a fine Christian family and welcomed me into their home.  My school room was a cabin that belonged to a young man who turned it over for a school during his absence.  I had students from many different states which made the job very interesting.

    Usually I would go over to my cabin on Friday nights and spend the whole weekend.  One Sunday I had been promised a ride back to my boarding place but the ride did not materialize.  About four o’clock I began to get worried and decided to walk.  My boarding place was about eight miles from my homestead.  When I reached Carter, the lady at the hotel told me if I would take a certain path it would cut off a few miles, so I decided to do that because it was getting late.  

    It was early October and I was dressed warm.  I carried a hand bag with with a week’s supply of of clean clothing.  I never did find the path, since it had long grown over.  I stopped and looked in all directions.  There was nothing in sight, not even a cabin.  I had never seen this part of the country before.  Suddenly it dawned on me that I was lost and almost as suddenly it was dark.

    I just just kept going in the direction I thought was right.  It seemed as if I was climbing up, then down.  I would run into a herd of range cattle, and they would scamper off.  They were more afraid of me than I was of them.  I could hear coyotes howling and I had no desire to spend the night on the prairie.  

    I tried to follow a light, but it would disappear.  Finally after walking and running for five hours, the light suddenly loomed up in front of me, and I saw a house.  Through the window I could see children playing.  I thought I was in Great Falls, it seemed as if I had walked that far.  I rapped on the door and when they opened it, I staggered in, exhausted.

    They removed my clothing which was soaked with perspiration and put me to bed.  This was the Ainley family.  Mr. Ainley was the grocer in Floweree.  The next morning Mrs. Ainley drove me to school.      This was the most harrowing experience that I had during my homestead years.  I learned one lesson—never again to take a short cut that I know nothing about.  I had wandered thought what was known as the Big Black Coulee.  There were deep ravines and holes I could have fallen into and no one would have known what had happened to me.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Sadie Takes A Leap Into The Unknown

         Yesterday I blogged about “The Children’s Blizzard.”   One of the reasons I had chosen that novel was because of my Grandmother, at the age of 21, also homesteaded in the prairies.  She left her family to head to Montana, to homestead and take up a teaching job in an isolated one-room school in the undeveloped prairie.

      I have always felt a special kinship to my grandmother, because of what she did when she was a young lady.  Like her, I left my family when I struck out to Canada, but I was married, she was alone, and she was a female, which made things a whole lot more difficult for her.

        Here part of what Sadie wrote about her homesteading adventure:

                                                        Homesteading Memories

                                                                          by 

                                                            Sadie Carr Marchant

    On an Easter Sunday morning in 1911, my father looked up from his paper and said, “Sadie, here is an opportunity for you.”  He was reading an Aberdeen South Dakota paper, and he had read a letter from a Mr. Truax of Big Sandy, Montana, who told of what a wonderful country it was and of the land yet to be filed on,

    Some of my school teacher friends had gone out across the Missouri River in South Dakota and taken up homesteads, and I, too, had been thinking of this fore some time.  My father offered to help me finance a claim if I wanted to go.  I wrote to Mr. Truax that very day and soon received an answer.  He gave such a glowing account of the country that it make me even more anxious to go.

    At the time, at the age of 23, I was teaching school and my term ended in a few days.  I closed school on Friday and the following Monday, went into Redfield to see when there would be an excursion to that part of the Montana.  The depot agent told me there was one that day, and if I could leave that night on a freight train that would take me to Aberdeen, he could give me the cheap excursion rates. 

    I knew deep down in my heart that if I did not leave that day, I would in all probability, not go at all.  I went home, talked things over with my father.  He had planned to go with me, but circumstances were such that he could not leave at that that time, but he advised me to go anyway.

    I packed my suitcase, stopped at my County Superintendent’s office to get a recommendation and left on the six o’clock train.  I was young, it was spring, and I was off on a great adventure.   How great it would be, I did not realize.

    The depot agent had advised me to buy a ticket to Great Falls.  This was good advice for when we came to Big Sandy, my heart sank.  It was not at all as I had pictured it, so I decided to go on to Great Falls.  

    After three days and nights on the train, crossing the great barren plains, Great Falls looked like an oasis in the desert.  I checked in at the beautiful new Rainbow Hotel.  Everything about Great Falls impressed me.  Here was a city with street cars, beautiful parks, beautiful falls, the great copper smelter, and there was land to be homesteaded not far away.

    I had become acquainted with a land agent on the train (the very thing Mr. Truax had told me not to do,)  This man came to the hotel and persuaded me to come out to the areas around Carter and Floweree and let him show me the land.  I had gone to the land office in Great Falls and they had just shoved a map out in front of me and told me nothing.

    I went out to Carter and put up at a little hotel and the land agent took me out with some others.  The land he showed me was thirty or forty miles out of town.  I knew I could not go out there as it would cost a fortune to have my provisions hauled.  He then showed me a claim that was available about six miles away from Floweree, and three miles from Carter, on the Missouri River.  

    We rode around this 320 acres on horseback.  Everything was green and beautiful, as there had been a great deal of rain.  It was evening and off across the river I could see the beautiful Highwood Mountains.  I decided that this was just what I wanted.  I went back to Great Falls, filed a claim and had my cabin built right away so I could establish the needed residence required as part of the Homestead Act, before I left for home.  

    I borrowed a cot and blankets from the hotel and the first night I slept in the cabin, there was a terrific storm.  The top of one side of the cabin had not been completed and it rained on my bed, drenching me.  As I walked over to the hotel the next morning the folks were all out on the veranda waiting for me.

    I knew what they were thinking, “I’ll bet this fixed her and she will have had enough of homesteading.”  

    I’ll admit I had been frightened, as storms and rattlesnakes were something I feared very much, but it had not daunted me.  I waited to have the cabin completed then stayed in it several nights before leaving for my home in South Dakota. 

    I had all that summer in South Dakota to think about it and my father, who was beginning to have second thoughts about having his young daughter homesteading, tried in every way to discourage me.  He was willing to lose the money he had given me, if I would only give it up.

    I did a lot of praying over it and did not know myself how I was going to endure the five years of residency required before that land became mine, but I was determined to go.  The settlers in Montana had  promised me a school, so when August came, I packed my belongings, and ordered a laundry stove, table, chair, and folding cot from Sears & Roebuck to be delivered.  My friends gave me a farewell shower and finally amidst sad farewells, I left for Montana. 

        Sadie’s adventure continues tomorrow.

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