When I was visiting the Wilder/Lane Rock House at Rocky Ridge Farm on Wednesday, Bill found this small structure in a ravine right next to the parking area. It's Almanzo Wilder's "spring house," built to keep milk, cream, butter, eggs, and other perishables cool. Bill is 6'1", so you can get a sense of the height and width of the little building. We couldn't go inside, because the door is locked, but I can guess what it looks like. My grandparents had a similar spring house on their small farm in Sullivan County, MO, about 120 miles north of Rocky Ridge, and I remember it very well from my visits there in the 1940s. It was always cool and damp, a special treat in July and August. In this one, the spring water likely flowed in through an opening in the back wall and out through a drain in the floor, through a pipe, and down the ravine. My grandparents' spring house had shelves for the food--maybe this one does, too.
When Rose Lane (Laura and Almanzo's daughter) built the Rock House as a retirement home for her parents in 1928, she had electricity installed so Laura would have a refrigerator and an electric stove--modern conveniences that few farm dwellings had at the time. But the refrigerator might not have been large enough to store all the produce they wanted to keep. What's more, Almanzo was used to using spring water to keep his milk and cream cool and he may not have trusted the electricity supply--prudent, I would say, given the possibility of wires going down. So he had this springhouse built in the ravine below the house. One of the docents mentioned it during her talk and I was delighted when Bill spotted it. Oh, and notice the sturdy door. Almanzo was making sure that critters weren't going to break in and have a feast on his food.
Home again to drought-stricken Texas. The blueblonnets were encouraged to germinate by the 3" rain we got two weeks ago, and they're putting out their true leaves now. I'm actually sorry to see them, because we're not likely to get enough rain in this coming La Nina winter to support their growth. The garden doesn't look terrible, though: I brought in some squash, cucumbers, and what might be the last of the okra.
In our absence, a team of wild pigs came along and rooted up the yard in front of our house and made a mess of the back yard, as well. I'm just sorry I didn't have the critter cam set up, to catch them in the act. That area isn't particularly damp, but maybe they've targeted the yard because the grass (the dead grass) is more shallowly rooted and they may be finding more yummy white grubs in the soil. Bill and I have never thought of our yard as a "lawn" (lawns are what people sow, mow, fertilize, and water), and we don't mind when the deer, raccoons, skunks, possums, coyotes, turkeys, and other birds use it for a food source, a route to the creek, or a parade ground to impress their friends and lovers. So I'm not sure that I mind terribly when the pigs dig up big patches of turf. But it's open season on wild pigs in Texas, and Bill is muttering about getting out his rifle. I've never eaten a wild pig, but there's a first time for everything. I'll keep you posted.
Reading Note. A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule.--Michael Pollan
