Archive for the ‘McKay, Jean’

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    Chronicles of a Farm Woman
    Boys come to the farm in summer as sure as the wheat stubble is turned under after harvest.  Children and the land belong together. No man-made toys are needed to entertain a child on the farm in summer.  All outdoors beckons to him.  The trees, birds, bugs, the water hole in the creek, the pond, and most of all, the freedom to roam at will. Another boy cares little...
    by at May 13th, 2012 at 09:05 pm
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    Grandmother’s Doll – THE FARM WOMAN
    When days are dreary and cold, as day after day has been this winter, activities are apt to be changed.  When country folk are shut in on account of weather, television programs come in for closer scrutiny, magazines are read from cover to cover, catalogs are studied, and books are read.  Women whose hands are always busy have quilts and clothes and crocheting to show...
    by at May 6th, 2012 at 02:05 pm
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    Chronicles of a Farm Woman
    The latest news down this way is not the lagging harvest with wheat fields still so wet in spots that the combine suddenly sinks down six inches without warning. The red hot news is the new black and white pony in the neighborhood.  No man or woman has ever been more thrilled or excited than the lad who called on the telephone to tell us the news. “Do you know what?”...
    by at April 30th, 2012 at 07:04 am
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    The Farm Woman
    A six-year-old down this way has embarked on a journey of momentous proportions. He has boarded the school bus for the journey to school – school with the unlimited possibilities that learning and knowledge may afford. This lad is no sluggard.  He is up in the morning with his father. He hurries through face-washing and tooth-brushing with the scant attention a...
    by at April 23rd, 2012 at 08:04 am
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    THE FARM WOMAN
    A 4-year old grandson came to the farm with one unalterable purpose in mind.  He wanted a pony.  He figured that if he could just get to the farm, his grandfather would get him a horse. When some mention of the length of his stay was made, he did not refer to days or weeks or months. He was going to stay until he got a horse. It is a well-known fact that grandfathers...
    by at April 8th, 2012 at 11:04 am
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    The Farm Woman
    Summertime is synonymous with young visitors on the farm.  From the time a young boy and girl start to school until they are 14, the farm holds them enthralled.  At 15 or 16 they begin to find jobs and have so many interests that extended visits to the farm must come to a halt. A 10-year-old from the city has come into a strange new world. For three generations at least,...
    by at April 1st, 2012 at 08:04 pm
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    THE FARM WOMAN
    For generations it has been the prerogative and pleasure for grandma to welcome each new baby into the family.  Not so many years ago one messenger went for the doctor while another went for grandma.  The newcomer arrived at home in the glare of the Rayo lamp, and was promptly wrapped in a wool flannel band. A woolen  undershirt and wool blankets.  Grandma ran the...
    by at March 18th, 2012 at 10:03 pm
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    The Farm Woman
    The new telephone building is a far cry from the day when Alexander Graham Bell called the first message over the wire.  It is a far cry from the day of Miss Sadie Carpenter who was the chief and only operator at Neosho Rapids for years. The position of operator not only gave Miss Sadie a livelihood, albeit meager;  it provided her with a pastime and a social outlet,...
    by at March 11th, 2012 at 11:03 pm
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    THE FARM WOMAN
    THE FARM WOMAN Surely one of the most encouraging things that has happened to this area in a long time is the decision of the Southwestern Bell Telephone Company to erect a two-million-dollar structure in Emporia. A sketch of the building hangs in the Chamber of Commerce office.  The erection of this building required no bond issue, aroused no community controversy,...
    by at March 4th, 2012 at 04:03 pm
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    THE FARM WOMAN
    The last old-timer in this neighborhood has retired and moved to town.  Hiram Wesley Zink, familiarly known as “Tobe,” has laid aside his milk stool and the riding plow and has joined the bench-warmers, for Tobe has never learned to loaf. It was no job for a large moving van when the Zink’s moved to town.  Instead, neighbors came with trucks and trailers and carefully...
    by at February 27th, 2012 at 09:02 am
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