Homestead Happenings

Some brief updates this post and not as many happy snaps as I’d like. But, it’s been so busy and carting my tablet around everywhere is not usually an option, especially where it’s wet and dirty, which is a lot of places at the moment.

Kidding season is over and it’s been a bit stressful, no surprise there. I’ve been wanting to try something new—which is the greatest lost homestead technique I could think of—making our own rennet.

We’ve only had goats a few years now, all of this still feels very new, but, we do want to keep moving forward on the path to self-reliance, so this one is pretty essential on that list. It was as challenging as I expected it to be!

I am squeamish, so that’s the first of the issues. Hubby does all the slaughtering and butchering and for a while I did help plucking chickens, but then we got a machine, so I don’t even do that anymore. I’m not accustomed to seeing the interiors of the animals, let alone having to identify all the parts.

So, trigger warning for this section for anyone reading more squeamish than me! Move to the next section, if you please.

For the briefest of intro lessons, rennet is made from the 4th stomach of the ruminant animal, the abomasum.

This photo is from a calf, so for us we were dealing with far smaller features. Obviously, this is a precious commodity. The abomasum must come from a nursing animal, as it still has the enzymes required for cheesemaking. It can also come from a stillborn, an unfortunate event turned into a beneficial one with proper immediate attention.

In our case, we’ve had 2 stillborn, one this year and one last year. This year we also had a very small doe, a first freshener, who had fairly large twins. We decided to cull one of her kids as part of our efforts. Of course this is never an easy decision to make, and I lose sleep over stuff like this. I was never meant to be a goat farmer, I just want to make cheese!

Anyway, I am glad for the tough choice and going through the trouble to acquire this precious skill. Hubby and I sat down before the guts together, at the kitchen table. One of the great many sentences I could never have imagined I’d be writing!

It’s not easy to find information on the how-to’s of this process, and I certainly had no one to call or visit for advice. It was not enough information to substantially build my confidence, that’s for sure. Sometimes that just takes doing it.

Luckily, I did find one YouTube video, and one blog, both again working with a calf, for which I’m exceptionally grateful.

Another brief aside about rennet, if I may bore many readers a bit further! As I’ve written before, most cheese made today, at least in the U.S., is not made from real rennet, it’s made from a lab-grown rennet substitute, made by Pfizer.

While it’s not that expensive for home cheese makers to buy animal rennet online, relatively speaking, considering only a tiny amount is required, I don’t want to have to entirely rely on far-away sources for such an essential item.

Another thing I’ve been experimenting with to overcome this issue is vegetable rennet, again, from a natural, local source, not a GMO lab-purchased source. We have figs, so that’s what I’m using, but nettles are another source.

It’s not possible to set a large hard cheese with this method, but it works for soft cheeses and very small, what I’d call semi-hard cheeses (because they don’t need a press) like the one I just tried after discovery this channel’s excellent demonstration.

This cheese is so easy! I’ve only just made it, so I can’t yet vouch for the taste, but he makes it look delicious. For this cheese you don’t need any special equipment—no molds or cultures, no aging fridge, and no rennet. Instead of the cute baskets he uses I just poked some holes in an old sour cream container. (And can I just add how much I adore his heavy accent and classic Italian hand gestures!)

We did eventually figure it all out, and here is our final product, now drying for 3 months or so, according to processing directions. It will then be sealed and last for many years and make many dozens of cheeses.

A great big thanks to the multi-layered efforts of man and nature for this magical gift!

In weather news, we’ve had a lot of rain. While I mentioned last update how much I love the rain, it is causing problems. We lost most of our onion harvest, for starters. This is a big disappointment because we were so close to harvest, just a couple more weeks. Not anymore, they were rotting in the ground, we had to pull them, lost a great many, and the others are mostly very small still.

So between the pitiful potatoes and the sad state of the onions, we are not starting off too well. The peas are already done as well, because of the heat, but that’s pretty normal here.

What’s not normal is my usual complaint—the manufactured weather. We can’t drive to half our property until Hubby upgrades our culvert, a huge undertaking. But we are very lucky this time around! No hail, or tornadoes, or other immediate disasters to deal with, like a great many.

Yes, more manmade clouds above our head. We’ll learn what NASA calls them next post.

But, I have a future Geoengineering Update in the works, so I’ll save further lecturing and complaining for now!

Instead we’ll end with a snap of one of our favorite dinners, just how we like it, burned to perfection! Not our pepperoni or cheese this time, but some just foraged chanterelles, homemade sourdough crust, and homegrown pork sausage. 😋

Thanks for stopping by!

When Push Comes To Shove

I don’t know when the breaking point will be, how it will come about, who will throw the first punch or the last. But, I’ve got some good quotes to share this post, of the variety that make me wonder if the public has finally had enough of the lies.

Or, was Bezmenov right? It’s hopeless at this point?

More false claims about raw milk, inspiring a good article from a wise woman, Sally Fallon of Weston A. Price. A few quotes:

“In a press release dated March 25, 2024,3 the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA), Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), as well as state veterinary and public health officials, announced investigation of “an illness among primarily older dairy cows in Texas, Kansas, and New Mexico that is causing decreased lactation, low appetite, and other symptoms.”

“The agencies claim that samples of unpasteurized milk from sick cattle in Kansas and Texas have tested positive for “highly pathogenic avian influenza (HPAI).” Officials blame the outbreak on contact with “wild migratory birds” and possibly from transmission between cattle. The press release specifically warns against consumption of raw milk, a warning repeated in numerous publications and Internet postings.”

“The truth is that “viruses” serve as the whipping boy for environmental toxins, and in the confinement animal system, there are lots of them — hydrogen sulfide, carbon dioxide, methane and ammonia from excrement, for example.  Then there are toxins in the feed, such as arsenic added to chicken feed, and mycotoxins, tropane and β-carboline alkaloids in soybean meal.  By blaming nonexistent viruses, agriculture officials can avoid stepping on any big industry toes nor add to the increasing public disgust with the confinement animal system.”

https://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2024/05/16/lies-against-raw-milk.aspx

******

RFID chips for cattle are back in the news as well. ‘The Lunatic Farmer’ Joel Salatin has just posted some choice words on the topic.

They Don’t Quit

“Nearly a decade ago we won the mandatory national Radio Frequency Animal Identification (RFID) regulation.  It was pushed on the heels of the mad cow paranoia as a way to track and find diseases quickly.”

For you youngsters, it was a draconian measure that was incredibly prejudiced against small outfits.  For example, a Tyson factory could register one RFID tag for a whole house of 20,000 chickens—one per flock.  But an outfit like ours would have to RFID every single chicken.  Costs ranged from $2 to $5 per tag.

                  Every time you moved animals from one addressed premise to another, you had to notify authorities.  Thousands of farmers around the country attended the hearings and voiced their opposition.  The backlash was severe and eventually the USDA pulled the plan.  It’s been dormant for a long time and we thought it was dead.”

********

Moving on to an essay that hits close to the mark, I think.

“In an election year that follows more than a decade of rising populist dissatisfaction, high-skill but low-status rejects are coming to look like a formidable social class.

Increasingly, it’s not just obscure farmers or overtaxed truckers who feel cheated out of the respect they’ve earned: it’s also debt-ridden college kids, heterodox tech magnates and blacklisted intellectuals. It’s manual laborers whose wages get depressed by inflation and illegal immigration, but it’s also artists whose projects get passed over to make room for yet another adaptation of The Color Purple. This helps explain why Trump has mobilized young people, blue-collar workers, white evangelicals, law-abiding Hispanics and black business owners, all in unexpected numbers: those are people who feel, in one way or another, despised without cause.

But the bitter irony is that in trying to outdo the founders’ virtue, we have created an unnatural aristocracy far more hide-bound and unworthy than the old-world royalty they fled. Our self-styled betters have neither raised us up toward a more perfect meritocracy nor led us triumphantly into a classless paradise. They have simply replaced an imperfect class system with a grotesque and nonsensical one. They promised to cater to throngs of frustrated pariahs; instead, they created more of them, adding to their number daily from the exiles of the natural aristocracy. Whether or not it is desirable that the resulting coalition should once again find itself represented by Donald Trump — a profoundly suboptimal champion — it was inevitable. This presidential contest is shaping up into a face-off between the incompetent elect and the excellent outcasts. It may not be the most exhilarating choice to have to face. But it’s not a particularly difficult one, either.”

https://archive.ph/2024.04.24-141033/https://thespectator.com/topic/how-woke-hierarchy-created-upper-class-underclass/

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And closing with an appropriate poem that was posted in the comment’s section of the post by Salatin quoted above. An author I’m very familiar with, but the poem is new to me.

THE WRATH OF THE AWAKENED SAXON
by Rudyard Kipling

It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late,
With long arrears to make good,
When the Saxon began to hate.

They were not easily moved,
They were icy — willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the Saxon began to hate.

Their voices were even and low.
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show
When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd.
It was not taught by the state.
No man spoke it aloud
When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not suddently bred.
It will not swiftly abate.
Through the chilled years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the Saxon began to hate.

Sympathy For the Devil

They could’ve meant well, no?
Even the profiteering prophets and diabolical deceivers
Swaying in sequential sequins before their loyal believers

Like the ones loving you to death?
Squashed voluntarily under their opposable thumbs
Swaying in rote rhythm to their incessant drums

Who teaches us to discern them?
Meddlers in men’s minds
Always claiming all is fine

What are the sins of the father?
The pedantic priests and sycophantic sophists
Bathing us perpetually in their poisoned mists

Are there greater deceivers than these . . . 
Or are they merely
Gypsies, tramps and thieves?

That aging Aquarian troupe forever brandishing
Usurping, coveting, flagrantly micro-managing
The magical staff of Hermes?

ViroLIEgy: Who Are the Quacks?

An excellent article!

“While the US is spending more money than any other country on the healthcare of its citizens, we are seeing the exact opposite return for our money, as reflected in the leading causes of deaths in the US. In 2016, a study by Johns Hopkins examined data over an 8-year period and estimated that more than 250,000 people are dying every year from medical mistakes. These are known as iatrogenic deaths, which means that they are deaths caused by those who are supposed to be healers. There are other studies that estimate the number of iatrogenic deaths even higher at 440,000. Whatever the true number is, these estimates place iatrogenic deaths as the third leading cause of death in the US behind cancer (around 580,000) and heart disease (around 600,000), and above respiratory disease (around 150,000). With dangerous heart disease medications (statins, beta blockers, ACE inhibitors, diuretics, etc.), along with toxic antibiotics/antivirals, harmful opioids, poisonous vaccines, deadly chemotherapy and radiation therapies, and unnecessary invasive interventions and surgeries that can all lead to deaths that are subsequently blamed on invisible pathogens and/or the underlying health conditions, the argument could very easily be made that iatrogenic deaths are the leading cause of death in the US.

These are wholly preventable deaths that are a direct result of a corrupt healthcare system that is not designed to protect health, but rather keep people as customers returning to the pharmaceutical industry for life. It is a system that was established in the early 1900s by special interests using massive amounts of money flowing in from the Rockefeller and Carnegie families. I previously wrote about the destruction of the homeopathic healers by the robber barons and the real snake oil salesmen of the past which resulted in the establishment of a system that aimed to sell petrochemical poisons as “cures.” It is a system designed to keep people weak and sickly utilizing drugs for invisible fictitious pathogens that are a means to cover up real environmental causes of illness and disease. Following the 1910 Flexnor report, financed by both of the wealthy industrialists Rockefeller and Carnegie, the entire medical educational system was overhauled and restructured away from holistic and natural therapies (such as homeopathy, herbal medicine, essential oils, chiropractic care, and naturopathy) and towards a system of invasive surgeries and petrochemical “cures.” The Flexnor Report recommended the closing of more than one-half of the medical schools, many of which were homeopathic and alternative medicine practices, based on ancient healing traditions, that were in direct opposition to the desired goals of the wealthy businessmen. The report called for a specific program and curricula to be adopted by all remaining, as well as any future, medical schools. Most importantly, it stipulated that all schools must undergo regular reviews in order for the renewal of their long-term accreditation following the initial approval by the American Medical Association (AMA). In other words, in order to remain a medical school and to receive funding, all schools needed to adopt the new medical system that was built upon the new germ “theory” of disease popularized in the late 1800s and the emergence of petrochemical medicines as a form of treatment. All alternative schools that did not wish to play ball were forced into closure. The AMA was given full control over what would be considered medicine as well as those who could practice it.”

Read on . . .ViroLIEgy

Homestead Happenings

An interesting week on the wee homestead, worth a quick update with many happy snaps and a couple of video clips.

We’ve had some wonderful days and nights of rain, too much for most, but quite fine for me. Hubby will unfortunately have to repair some fencing, nothing new there.

All the usual erosion issues will fall on him and his little old tractor once again, so I make great efforts to contain my glee. Our water is out and so is the phone, but that’s not unusual either.

The creek overflowing its banks and the pond washing out.

Shadow sniffing around, but not nearly as tuned into the wildlife as our livestock guardian dogs. In fact, he seems to be a bit allergic to the great outdoors, especially in summer!

I think he prefers his time lounging in the hammock with Daddy. 🥰

He does also appreciate chasing the pigs and goats and sheep, as much as we keep hollering at him to knock it off.

If you’re wondering what’s happened to scar up poor Pattie’s back like that, zoom in on the following photo to find the culprit.

The rains have certainly seemed to wake up the wild life—just in the past few days we’ve seen a scorpion, 2 water moccasins, 2 copperheads, and Hubby even thinks he saw a coral snake.

I followed one for a couple of minutes as he made his way back to the pond.

Water moccasin making its way back to the pond

There are some more pleasant sitings as well, like these, wild butterfly weed (Asclepius) and Prickly pear cactus (Opuntia).

And some cute mushrooms that I haven’t been able to identify.

The garden is doing fine, tomatoes are growing very well, all from our saved seed. Beans and cucs just coming in and the peppers are getting their first flowers.

The first datura bloom, the German chamomile flowering by the snap peas and a nasturtium blooming near the wild spiderwort (a medicinal I’ve posted about here).

In closing, a quick view of honeybees bathing in Poppy pollen.

Thanks for stopping by!

Homestead Happenings

It’s raining caterpillars!

And other news this post, including Hubby’s big mistake, lots of garden snaps, critter updates and the new normal weather chaos.

Big ones, small ones, skinny ones, fat ones . . .

Black ones, white ones, green ones, yellow ones . . .

Let’s see, perhaps a bit of 80s pre-conditioning before our current day “You vill eat ze bugs!”?

We’ve never seen so many, and such a variety. They do not look the least bit appetizing and clearly the birds agree, or there couldn’t possibly be so many.

I’m not exaggerating when I say you cannot take a step without seeing one. I’m hoping they turn into gorgeous butterflies and soon we’ll have a garden full of them. But I haven’t looked them up yet and they could easily become some voracious relative of horn worms for all I know, about to attack the tomatoes.

They’ve destroyed my spring cabbages and are working on the fava beans and snap peas now.

Fall cabbages in the back compared to spring cabbages up front

At least the goats appreciated all those Swiss cheese-like leaves.

Snap peas don’t last long here anyway and while those creepy crawlers get the leaves of them, and those of the radishes, at least they leave us the fruits.

I’ve already made a large crock of sauerkraut and a quart of fermented radishes. Plus we’ve been getting loads of mulberries thanks to Hubby who has been destroying the tent worms that have been appearing all spring. Those little buggers love the wild cherries too and can easily destroy all leaves and fruits in a matter of days.

So, big kudos to Hubby for coming to the rescue, and spending a fair amount of tedious time harvesting these little beauties as well.

But, Hubby is also responsible for the misdemeanor crime of killing our potatoes! I should’ve caught it. I know, he was just trying to help. So, he filled our potato buckets with too much compost too fast and now we have potato disaster.

Lesson learned, you can only add a couple inches at a time, even if the greens are much taller than that.

I’ve got lots of herbs companion planted with the tomatoes that are all looking great.

Thyme, cilantro and dill growing between tomatoes

One of the best garden decisions I’ve made is far more flowers in the garden. Not only to attract pollinators, but to attract us too. It’s a far more inviting space than just rows of crops and makes me want to go in and play. 😊

The Peggy Martin rose just one year after planting a cutting from a friend.

And the Burr rose, many years old, huge and seemingly indestructible, even from constant nibbling by the sheep and goats.

And one of my garden favorites, which my photo doesn’t do justice at all: Nigella, a delicious seed and lovely tiny blooms in blue and white.

Their seeds have a grape-like flavor and are delicious in bread and kombucha.

A larger garden view

Another fruit that so far seems successful are the persimmons. We have both Virginia and Asian planted and the flowers on them are so unique, just like their fruits.

I’ve also got the citrus planted at last and I’m so excited! I cannot fail! (Says no one but me and I’ve gotten quite a few discouraging words from others on this venture.)

Meyers lemon, Satsuma orange and Key limes, don’t fail me, please!

Planted along with the new ‘kiss me under the garden gate’ flower which is doing quite well, and the still unfinished wattle fence.

In the best news we have our first kids just born this morning. Milking season approaches too quickly!

The weather madness continues, unfortunately. Big surprise.

Some still think these are contrails! Good grief!

This weekend’s forecast looks like a drop-down menu: 1/16th inch rain possible, or severe storms, or flooding, or hail, or tornadoes. Try planning for those options, peasants! 😩

Hope life is a little more predictable in your neck of the woods!

Thanks for stopping by. 🤗

Geoengineering Update

I have to applaud our reader Highlander for sharing this musician who has me laughing so hard I have tears streaming down my cheeks! Nothing like a good laugh for health. So, first the fun stuff.

I believe this kind of ‘meaningful entertainment’ is an excellent way to spread the word about unpleasant news.

Another good one I’ve shared in the past, not a parody tune, a ballad, and very sad.

And, winding down, if you can muster the courage, Dane’s weekly Bad News Broadcast, which I never miss (much to Hubby’s chagrin!)

Keep laughin’, keep preppin’, and thanks for stopping by! 🤗

Reblog: What Is Propaganda?

“The side effect of digitising the world is to sever you from your analogue conscious mind. The truth is that relationships, time, value, purpose, experience, sacrifice, humour, love, consciousness, and the sacred are irreducible to algorithm or anything else. And everybody knows this. Meaning precedes reason.

We don’t need to worry about artificial intelligence so much as we should be wholly concerned with the ‘artificialising’ of intelligence.

Once the world is digitised, behaviour is driven from the outside. The lie they sell you is that your unconscious desires are driving your behaviour. Bullshit, it’s all propaganda: fear porn, actual porn, manufactured crisis, the science, climate malarkey, nudges, lies, trickery, deception, politics, debt, consensus, tv, Netflix, social media, education, race, employment, news, suggestion, hypnotic repetition, drugs – legal and illegal, atheism, bad parenting advice, academia, institutional subservience, centralisation, new age mumbo-jumbo, the internet, trans, psychological conditioning, behavioural science and war. All lies. Everywhere.”

“The loss of memory by a nation is also a loss of its conscience” – Zbigniew Herbert

What is Propaganda? ‹ winter oak ‹ Reader — WordPress.com

Homestead Happenings

Almost entirely happy snaps and almost no complaining at all, really! The garden is mostly great, the weather mostly fine, summer in full swing already, ready or not.

It’s been busy around here, as usual. But, busy in the country way, which is very different. Our preservation season has already begun, and it’s fixing to get very busy very soon. I have mixed feelings about that, but here it is anyway.

I’ve been saving the rose petals for drying and kombucha after admiring their scent and beauty in many lights and angles.

The poppies continue to pop up in random places, among the roses and in cracks and crevices, like dandelions.

And the bees love them as much as I do.

Another rose variety, the thornless Peggy Martin, I just planted last year, is now getting its first blooms.

I’m so very pleased with the transition from cool-season coral honeysuckle blooms to the Dortmond rose takeover, lovely! I especially like the short spell they co-habitat.

The wattle fence I began with the best intentions is languishing due to too many other priorities. It has been a sheep deterrent at least, since the mamas and lambs have taken over the front yard. And even Shadow doesn’t dare stand in their way!

This is where the citrus will go, my new big project. I’m even considering throwing an avocado in there too. I know, very ambitious! But, I want to give some of the new methods a try and it seems like a good time. This side of the house is ideal, the house breaking the north wind and the heavy late afternoon sun. Plus, there’s the extra warmth accumulated in the walls of the house to help in cold snaps, along with the extra heating and draping methods that seem to be working for others.

Ooohhh, anticipation!

Just like the tomatoes and cucumbers coming so soon, right around the corner, and I can hardly wait. The last fermented cucumbers we used up a week ago, amazingly, and they were still crispy and flavorful. I plan to continue and expand my fermenting efforts this summer and fall. More herb pastes, more tea blends, more spice mixes.

The lambs are still doing fine, my how fast they grow.

Spring lambs on springs! 😆

My garden mascots, two white rabbits.

And my single complaint—the spray continues to ruin our beautiful days.

Is this why we can so clearly see these colors, because we have an atmosphere saturated with reflective particulate matter?

Cool pic, or chem-filled haze?

“I’m no prophet Lord, I don’t know nature’s ways.”
Anticipation’ by Carly Simon

ALL For Sale

When I lived in Europe in the 90s it was not too uncommon to see an amazing castle for sale for a pittance. I do mean a real castle, or a vast country estate that included a structure that once was a castle.

And I do mean a pittance, as in, they were not able to give these places away.

Vauburg, France (not my image), bit of a multi-generational hodge-podge.

Sometimes that was because they came with strings attached, so I can understand. Or it was designated for a specific purpose or with strict regulations. You had to restore it, for example, which was something that cost so much that the just wealthy could not afford it.

I had a French boyfriend for a while, who boasted some aristocratic lineage and took me to the castle where his aunt still lived. I marveled at the exquisite property and at the lingering formality of his kin who addressed each other, that is as husband and wife, in the formal, using ‘vous’.

Maybe the uber-wealthy could afford it, if they cared to, but they just didn’t have the interest?

Or, which I’m actually more inclined to think these days, even with their fortunes, they would not be able to restore it. Because the skills to accomplish such an extraordinary endeavor have been lost to time.

A single example of the dozens of architectural marvels which have been destroyed in our little city, with more on the chopping block all the time.

In those days I dreamed of becoming a travel writer, or a writer of historical fiction. So, it’s not a huge stretch for me now to covet an interest in such parallel stories here, today, locally.

This is the closest real city to us, Palestine. What I’d call a small city today, though growing steadily. It was never more than a small city, as far as population goes. Just how it amassed such an amazing amount of great architecture is a real mystery to me. Though there are official stories.

I knew there was some interesting history there, and all around here, but it’s not like I’ve had a lot of time for exploring such idle pastimes, with all the work trying to build up a homestead.

But lately I’ve been squeezing in some time and loving it!

And of course, you’ve got to blossom where you’re planted. I used to tour every castle or abbey or old walls or ruins I could find, whether in the Old Town of any European city or hamlet, or a day hike away from the nearest bus stop.

This Old World has entered center stage for me again thanks to the Cyber World, which is really kinda crazy. But, true.

I’ve seen this old church for sale the last few times while driving through the downtown streets marveling at the old buildings.

I stop for lunch, and at a favorite antique shop, where I see tourists, which I find delightful. Though they only have much interest in the antique shops and the cafes and the provided entertainment. Still, it’s fun hearing German in the tourist office and hearing ladies from places all around the region, even in a rainstorm, there to peruse what our little city has to offer.

I was a novice travel writer, until I met the love of my life, who I managed to lure from the beaches of Thailand to a trailer park in Mena, Arkansas.

Hubby and I at ‘Roman ruins’ in Spain 2003—note our cute matching outfits—that was not planned.

And look who returned the favor by luring me into the deep woods of East Texas to spend an exceptional amount of time doing menial labor. 😏

I was also a beginner tour guide, Mayflower Tours. I lasted about two weeks, until I realized how unsuited I was to a job hosting a bus full of retirees for four-day trips to and around Branson, Missouri three times a month.

I think they weeded out a lot of us that way. There must be a trick to how many bossy seniors and cowboy theaters can be stomached for minimum wage, but I couldn’t figure that out quite fast enough. Another potential career option in the toilet.

And yet . . .

When I see precious gems like this my imagination sparks just like those days in Spain, France, Germany, UK, Czech Republic, Poland . . . Ok, everywhere, just about everywhere. I was very much a Europhile. Still am.

And yet . . .

I’m so struck by the lack of general interest. And knowledge. And, frankly, care.

I see the collapsing remnants of a structure worth saving. I see a history worth understanding and passing forward.

That’s the shot to inspire a buyer’s creative juices? Yikes. What about its real history, does anyone care? And, where’s the roof?

But the Realtors, who are there to sell this precious gem, see little of that world, neither the past nor the true potential. It’s such a shame. Such a very common, and so very confusing, big fat shame.

Will it become an ‘event venue’ as they suggest? It’s hard to imagine the kind of events that would make such a renovation effort worthwhile, or particularly palatable. Is there even such skilled workmanship available today?

Dare I question, true philanthropy, if it ever existed at all, is it dead?

There are many such gems in our little city, which suggest but mere clues to the true treasures in our midst, in plain sight—all teetering in a world of nearly forgotten but, dare I hope, at least a cyber-revival?

A taste of the hidden history in plain site, he’s getting to all the states eventually, and beyond, one of a great many channels sparking my renewed interests . . . 😁