, and Model Trains!

When thinking about putting together yesterdays post, I didn’t plan to end it as I did.  It was to be a post about a lazy day in which we attended the parade and visited an old landmark in our little town.  The title was “A Country Christmas Parade, and Model Trains”.  It just didn’t go as planned.

So, back to the trains.  A few years ago it was discovered that an old depot from the town of Summit was rotting away on property way out in the country.  It had been hauled there years ago and used as a hunting camp before being abandoned.  This wasn’t a depot building from the big Illinois Central that ran through town, but of the little Liberty-White railroad.  A small line started by a local man that was one of the pioneers of the area.

The ladies garden club came up with the idea of having it moved back to near downtown and restored for use as a small community center.  It was in horrible condition and many, including myself, thought it was a waste of time and money.  We were wrong.  I should have known that a dedicated group of women can do anything.



The building has been fully restored inside and out.  Each year at Christmas local model train enthusiasts set up a few layouts.


 

I don’t suppose there will many electric trains sitting underneath the trees this Christmas.  I do remember the Christmas Santa left one for me.  After talking with the owners of these layouts, I sure wish I still had it.  They brought back some fond memories.


 


It wasn’t all about the boys, though.  There was also an old Victorian style doll house.



It was fun to visit with some folks we know, as we reminisced about days gone by.  It was good to see smiles on faces such as this.  Don’t think I’ve ever met a happier Conductor.

                             

It’s going to be a busy week around here.  There’s supposed to be a crew of about forty people; made up of siblings, kids, in-laws, and outlaws at our little place next Sunday.  Lots of house cleaning, yard clearing, and cooking to take place before then.  I may do some of it, myself….jc

Country Christmas Parade

I received a call the other day wanting to know what had happened to the blog posts.  My answer was that we lead a pretty uneventful life while at home.  Our home is surrounded by trees, so there are no dramatic sunsets to photograph.  I’ve posted all about my neighbors farm, both old and new.  I haven’t been involved in any projects to speak of, so there just hasn’t been anything to blog about.  I can’t imagine anyone would be interested in our day to day life here at home.
All the towns around where we live had their Christmas parades the first of the month.  Nothing much exciting about them as they have evolved into loud bands playing everything but Christmas music, and people, old and young, fighting over candy thrown from the floats.  Today was a little different.



A rural community just a few miles from us has a parade each year.  It’s out in the country.  Organized by a local church, it has become a fun event.  Nothing but fields and pastures along the route.



Little ones awaiting the arrival of Santa Clause.



Soon it’s under way with bikes and trikes.

 

Old rusty jeeps and new ORV’s.

 

Classic cars and new wheels.

 

The Exchange Club was passing out American flags, as usual.

Santa finally arrives in his red chariot.



Followed by a wagon train full of elves, accompanied by lots of cowboys and cowgirls.



 

Ride finished, a family watches the remaining parade.



The eyes of a child at Christmas.



Looking at the photo above, I can’t help but be drawn to tears.  Thinking about those children that lost their lives yesterday morning, and what their parents must be going through at the present time.  The Christmas season will never be joyful for them, ever again.  Please remember them in your prayers for days to come………jc

Syrup Cooking

 

A few weeks ago Judy had a post about an old  Southern tradition. It was part of a living history exhibition on the NWR where she is presently volunteering.  Little did I know when  reading her post that the tradition was alive and well just a little over ten miles from my home.

A fifth generation syrup maker still grows a little sugar cane for his own personal consumption and sale, along with making syrup for the few other folks in the area that still grow it.  His operation is a little larger than the one Judy spoke of, but the procedure is much the same.  The mule or horse is missing, being replaced with an old Farmall tractor.

 

The mill for crushing the cane is larger, but the results are the same.  The cane is fed between two large rollers to extract the juice.

 

Manufactured in Columbus, Georgia nearly a hundred years ago, it still performed well.

The juice runs from the mill through a couple of different screens into a large metal stock tank.

From there, it gravity feeds down to the cooker.  A U shaped trough approximately thirty feet long and two feet wide.

The juice is skimmed to remove as much foam as possible because it makes the syrup dark.

As the juice makes its way along the trough it is progressively heated until it begins to steam.  By the time it reaches the other end of the trough it is at a roiling boil.

It’s at this point where the syrup makers art becomes apparent.  If you don’t cook it long enough it’s too thin and watery; too long it won’t pour and might scorch.  Like a fine winemaker, he constantly stirs, tastes, and looks for certain things.

At the proper moment the valve is opened and what looks like liquid gold pours into a bucket.

From there it is dumped through another screen into the the bottling tub.

Each persons cane is cooked and bottled separately.  That’s due to the different varieties of cane, as well as the variations within each crop.  Just like grapes, different soils and moisture levels produce different sugar levels, which affects the final product.  Though some mixing takes place at the beginning and end of each batch, as the cooker can’t run dry, what you bring in the way of sugar cane is what you take home in syrup.

 

The syrup maker himself takes a portion of each batch as payment for his mill and labor.  By Christmas he has sold all he made for himself, as well as his take for cooking for others.

 

It was a beautiful Saturday morning on the first day of December.  Just to be out in the country smelling that hot syrup cooking, visiting with folks young and old, and watching what’s soon to be a lost art, was awesome. 

 

 

 

Oh, Yeah!  I brought some home.  Now to talk Wanda into a pan of hot biscuits….jc