Here are a couple of short installments from the history book of the region where the Bag Lady lives:
"Mom struggled with a garden. The growth was terrific, but occasionally a summer frost would kill her potatoes and that was a disaster as that was a staple they depended on. She often told of times she and a neighbor lady would go horse back riding to pick blueberries or cranberries, or the lonely nights when the men were away hunting and the only sound you would hear was the howling coyotes. No communication in those days, but somehow life was not boring as there was so much to do one was far too busy to feel sorry for oneself.
I was born in January of 1918, in the tiny hospital in town. It was so cold inside the hospital that the water froze solid in a glass on a bedside table.
Soon the flu epidemic spread to our area and families and neighbors died by the score. Dad made boxes and helped bury the dead. People that were well a few days before were suddenly sick and dying. "
Another woman wrote of her experiences attending school in the 1940's:
"When my brother and I were school age, we rode horseback for the spring and fall months. Several families in our area travelled together with horses and sleigh during the winter months. School was about 5 miles away and on very cold days we often suffered frostbite on face, hands and feet. Our mothers would heat rocks in the oven and wrap them in blankets. The rocks held the heat for quite awhile and we would keep our feet on them to keep warm. However, often the roads would be badly drifted and we children would have to get out and break trail for the horses and sleigh. This, of course, meant extra time spent on the road and as a result, the rocks would be cold long before we arrived at school."
Stories such as these abound in the history of this country, and the Bag Lady is fascinated by them! She has great admiration for the pioneers who suffered all manner of hardships in order to carve a life out of the wilderness.