Old World Wisconsin

Last Tuesday, Mom, Dad, and I took our first trip to Old World Wisconsin. It was my second birthday adventure. Terry had to stay home and water his trees before they died.

We started with lunch at the Clausing Barn Café. I highly recommend the fried cheese curds. They were squeaky fresh!

Lunch outside the Clausing Barn Cafe

The tram system worked efficiently. Each tram had a storage area for walkers and strollers. They ran every 10-15 minutes, so we never had to wait very long.

Tram with walker/stroller storage at the front of the car

We took the tram back to the German area. The tram driver explained that these oxen have recently figured out that they can lift the rails on the split rail fences with their horns and walk to freedom. The staff is trying to figure out how to secure them better.

Oxen by the split rail fences that they have outsmarted

We got off the tram at the Schulz Family 1860 German Immigrant Farm. Here is a picture of Mom and Dad walking into the garden. Many of the gardens were done in raised beds. I never thought to ask if that was authentic to the period. I found it hard to imagine that people working so hard to scrape together a living would bother to lay out lovely symmetrical raised beds. If it were me, I wouldn’t bother with flowers either, but I can imagine that they would remind one of the old country and make one feel that all vestiges of civilization were not lost.

Schulz Family Farm house and garden

We arrived in the middle of a weaving demonstration. The docent was explaining how the warp threads were put on a huge loom. Usually there were 12 threads to the inch. She did a sample calculation of 10 threads to the inch and ended up with hundreds of feet of thread that would be needed for a piece of fabric wide and long enough for a pair of pants. The thread would be measured on a frame that had two rows of pegs on posts that were two yards apart. It took two days to put the warp threads on the loom, threading the odd threads (1, 3, 5…) through one set of strings to lift the threads and the even threads through a second set of strings. The docent demonstrated how the foot pedals switched the threads as she passed the “boat” that held the weft between the alternating warp threads. Mrs. Schutz wove all the cloth for all her family’s clothes, flax for summer, wool for winter. How could she have gotten anything else done?

Loom--pegs that can be removed for disassembly on upper right

The docent pointed to pegs at the top of the loom, explaining that the loom could be taken apart during the summer, when Mrs. Schulz would be too busy with the harvest to do any weaving.

We went around back to see the pig barn. This pig was very pregnant, although her distended belly does not show up well in the photo. She was a small pig by modern standards. All of the animals at Old World Wisconsin are heritage breeds that were actually used on historic farms.  This particular pig is good for lard, which was very important in 1860.

This breed of pig is good for lard

The balcony on the pig barn gave access to the upper floor, which was used for lodging of farm hands or storage.

Pig barn with balcony

These black hens were running all over.

Schultz Family chicken

The big barn held hay, rye, and flax. The flax had to be beaten in this beater to break up the outer covering and get at the softer fibers inside. Next, the docent held the fibers against a vertical piece of wood, hit the fibers with a slender bat and slid the bat down to pull the chaff away from the fibers. After that, the fibers had to be pulled through nails to straight then fibers, which were then spun and woven to make linen. I cannot imagine how much time this all would take.

Flax beater in front (the middle piece comes up). The docent is holding the bat that she will use to hit the flax against the vertical board on the right

Our next stop was the Koepsell Family 1880 German Immigrant Farm. There was a beautiful flower garden out front.

Koepsell Family house and flower garden

The apple trees in the orchard had been pruned and trained for easy picking.

Pruned and trained apple tree

Hops grew on upright poles. The docent explained that the hops was used not only in beer making but also as a source for yeast.

Hopps

The Koepsell farm had white chickens.

White chickens on the Koepsell farm

On our way to the Finns, we saw a team of Percheron horses headed off to pick up a hay wagon.

Percheron were commonly used as draft horses in the 19th century

We went to the Ketola Family 1910 Finnish Immigrant Farm next. The Finns were among the last European immigrants to Wisconsin. The only places left for them to settle were marginal lands up by Lake Superior. It worked out because the climate was about the same as what they’d left behind.

The Ketola Family house. The ladder on the roof is for putting out sparks that land on the wooden shingles

The Ketola farm included dairy cows. These cows are quite different from Holsteins, the udder being noticeably smaller.

Heritage dairy cows

The house had a cream separator in the kitchen. It reminded Hilda of her childhood.

Cream separator

The Ketolas had a sauna. Finns took one sauna a week in the winter, one a day in summer, and twice a week the rest of the time.

Sauna bench

The stone are on top of a piece of metal. The edge of the metal is visible in this photo to the right of the kettle. My best guess is that the fire was built under that piece of metal to heat the stones.

Sauna hearth

We rode the tram around the Norwegian and Danish areas and got off again at the Sanford Family 1860 Yankee Farm.

Sanford Famly house

The Sanfords moved to Wisconsin from the East Coast, which is why they were called Yankees. They were pretty well off, compared to the farms we’d seen.

They still had to grow all their own food. The garden was large.

Sanford garden

This is the storage room off of the kitchen with dried herbs hanging from the ceiling.

Hilda looks at a basket in the pantry

I thought this was a primordial food processor. The docent explained that it was a bean slicer and showed me two small chutes in the back for holding two beans vertically. “It didn’t even work well when it was new,” she added.

Bean slicer

We walked through the 1880’s village. It was a hot day, and I was beginning to fade. We skipped the residences, although I took a picture of the Mary Hafford Irish Immigrant Home. She was widowed young and supported her numerous children and saved enough money to build this house by taking in washing.

Hafford House

We watched a blacksmith make a pot hook.

Blacksmith makes a pot hook

And visited the Thomas General Store.

General Store

This wheelbarrow was in front of the General Store. You would have to be careful that stuff didn’t fall off the sides.

Wheelbarrow

We finished our day at St. Peter’s Church, the first Roman Catholic Church in Milwaukee, built in 1839. This is the altar.

St. Peter's Church altar

The stove was in the middle of the room with a long pipe to the side. The heat from the pipe probably helps warm the room.

Stove in St. Peter's

The docent demonstrated that the back seat of the pews was open to accommodate ladies’ bustles.

The backs of the pews were open to allow room for a bustle

The aisle was several inches below the floor on either side. The docent said there were two possible explanations. First, elevating the floor on either side may have made the floor warmer. Second, the middle may have been filled with straw to try to contain the mud and other stuff that people brought in on their shoes.

There was way more to see at Old World Wisconsin, but we were tired and melted after three hours. Perhaps we’ll go back another day

Back to the garden

Sunday was a perfect day for gardening. It was cool, cloudy, and windy enough to keep the bugs away. I weeded the pumpkin patch and thinned and weeded the corn. That was enough for one day. I felt confident that when I got the beans thinned, I’d be caught up.

The two corn rows on the right have been thinned and weeded; the two rows on the left have not.

I have noticed more killdeer around the yard this year. They made so much noise, I wondered if they had babies somewhere. Well, as soon as got to the garden, I saw them. Two little chicks, just as cute as a bug’s ear. I got my camera and stood for a long time waiting for the parent to get close enough to the chicks so they would all be in focus. That does not seem to be the parental strategy. Every time I stepped forward, the parent moved away from the chicks. I finally got this picture of the family.

Killdeer adult and two chicks

And here is one of the chicks.

Isn't this killdeer chick about the cutest thing you've ever seen?

The killdeer moved off, and I started on the beans. Three rows were under one piece of row cover, and one row was with the peas. As soon as I lifted the row cover on the last bean row, I realized I needed to weed the peas. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to trellis them while I was at it.

As I worked, I heard a few distant rumbles of thunder. The sky grew dark in the west. I dared to hope that we might get some rain. The cloud moved south, and I figured we’d been missed again. I was 4 feet from the end of the pea/bean rows when a downpour came out of nowhere. I took all the tools to the shed. I knew it wouldn’t rain for long, but it was lunch time, so I went in.

Sure enough, 5 minutes later, it was all over. Terry and I were both soaked. We changed clothes and headed back out after lunch. It got hot in a hurry with the sun out. I finished the weeding/thinning, trellised the peas and put the row cover back up.

Alas, for everything that gets crossed off the list, two more things get added. I need to thin the cabbage that we planted from seed and pull the weeds out of the two rows of cabbages and Brussels sprout. The peppers need weeding. The beets and carrots will need weeding soon, but they are still really little. It’s hard to tell them from the weeds at this point. The conclusion is that I will never get caught up.

I took a mirror to see what was in the robin nest under the deck. Three blue eggs. Right now I can see the bird on the nest panting in the heat.

Robin nest with three eggs

Other robin families are much further along. These chicks follow the parent around all day long begging. The parent generally ignores them.

Two robin fledglings following their parent

Terry has put three coats of paint on the sign posts.

Painting the sign posts

 I finally got up the courage to go look at my restoration area. Lots of penstemon has survived the wet winter and spring.

Penstemon in the restoration area

Sedges are also doing well.

Sedge

I was surprised to see so much timothy because there wasn’t any in that area last year, and there isn’t much of it in the rest of the field. It must tolerate wet soils better than brome grass. In any case, all is not lost.

Timothy

The International Crane Foundation

In a blog post last summer, I mentioned that Terry and I intended to return to Baraboo to see the International Crane Foundation. My friend Diane, an avid birder, emailed to suggest that we meet there for my birthday this year.

And it came to pass that we planned to both arrive at noon, have a picnic, and go on the 1:00 tour. I invited Jane and Jan to come along. Jan was the only one of us who had been before. In the planning stages, because the trip was in early June, I envisioned a pleasant 73° day, not the 90° scorcher that it turned out to be. 

The International Crane Foundation was smaller than I imagined. 

Sculpture at the entrance

We parked in the shade near some picnic tables. We arrived before Diane and Tom, although they were not far behind.

We had a nice picnic in the shade. Jane had gotten a little crazy with her shopping and brought cheese, sausage, crackers, Cheetos, cherries, grapes, and Cracker Jacks. I made chocolate chip cookies. At 1:00 we assembled with a few other people in the theater for an introduction by our tour guide, a young woman named Secca, and a 13-minute film on cranes.

There are only 14 species of cranes, and the International Crane Foundation has examples of all of them. They have both a male and female for most of them, but not all are pair bonded.

The first area we came to was the “Spirit of Africa Exhibit.” There were four crane species here. At each enclosure, there was a shelter with benches. The female grey crowned crane can’t live in the wild because she imprinted on a human male. They have tried to introduce her to a male crane, but she attacked him. 

Grey crowned crane

She is a great exhibit bird, however, because she comes right up to the fence to see if she can attract a human male.  We had some excitement when someone’s hat blew up against the fence, and the crane attacked it.

Attacking a hat

The wattled crane hung out in the shade. These cranes are difficult to breed in captivity. In the wild, their nesting depends on annual flooding. If there is no flood in a given year, they don’t nest. I can imagine it is hard to recreate these conditions in captivity. They are slower to reproduce than most cranes, laying one egg per year rather than two.

Wattled crane (note wattle)

Next we saw a pair of black crowned cranes. 

Black-crowned crane

The blue cranes looked so smooth it was hard to believe they were covered in feathers. This is a young pair, about 5 years old.

Blue cranes

From Africa, we started around the Johnson Exhibit Pod. 

The brolga is the only crane that doesn’t have “crane” in the name. It is native to Australia, and “brolga” is the indigenous term for “crane.” Brolga crane would be redundant. 

Brolga

The Sarus crane is the tallest flying bird at 6 feet. 

Sarus crane--tallest flying bird. The bird in the back gives a better idea of height

The hooded crane is secretive about its nesting sites. The female of this pair was nesting, but no one had examined the egg yet to see if it was fertile.

Hooded crane

The most numerous crane in the world is the sandhill crane. Their population size is estimated at 650,000. There are six recognized subspecies of sandhill cranes. The sandhill cranes we saw were from a Florida subspecies that is not migratory and is in decline because rising ocean levels from climate change are increasing the salinity of the wetlands.

Sandhill crane

There were no shade shelters around the Exhibit Pod. We took a break from that area to go to the whooping crane exhibit. It felt good to sit down out of the sun. At one point, there was one population of 16 whooping cranes left in existence. Secca told us how the captive breeding started with egg collection. She showed us the puppet that was used to feed the chicks so they would not imprint on humans. 

Secca demonstrates the whooping crane puppet

There are now 600 whooping cranes, but the populations are not yet self sustaining.

As Secca talked, the female came down and walked through the water for us.

Whooping crane walking

Stretching her wings

Artsy-fartsy picture with reflection

The male spent the whole time on a nest.

Male whooping crane on the nest. Both parents take turns incubating the eggs

The Eurasian cranes are to the rest of the world what the sandhill cranes are to North American, being widespread and numerous. We heard their calls, which sounded similar to the sandhills. There is considerable variation among crane species in the length and coiling of the trachea, and this is what makes the difference in their vocalizations.

Eurasian cranes

The Siberian cranes are critically endangered, with less than 3000 individuals. They migrate 3000 miles twice a year. The trouble is that many of the stopping over places on their long flights have been drained. The Foundation is working to try to identify and restore these areas. While we were there, the cranes threw back their heads and called. It was quite a display.

Siberian cranes

The black-necked cranes migrate from Tibet to Bhutan. Their movement is from high to low elevation. Their return to the valleys of Bhutan is celebrated by local peoples who believe that the cranes bless the field for the coming year.

Black-necked crane

I noticed that many of the cranes ran to the fence as soon as we assembled there. My assumption that this was because they were tame was incorrect. Secca explained that they are being territorial and are racing out to defend their turf. This was particularly apparent for the White-napped crane. The female was nesting, and the male was so aggressive toward visitors that a special net had to be put up to keep it from hurting himself. 

White-napped crane--Stay Back!

Neither the Demoiselle cranes (the smallest of the cranes) of central Eurasia nor the red-crowned crane of Russia were out. I lingered long enough to hear that the Demoiselle crane crosses the Himalayas in its migration and has extra hemoglobin in its blood to make this high altitude flight possible.
I couldn’t stand the heat anymore and returned to the gift shop. I bought myself a birthday present.

My birthday present

We took a group picture in the picnic area.

Jane, Tom, Diane, Jan, Terry, and me

We went to Jose’s Authentic Mexican Restaurant when we were done looking at cranes.We had a fine meal, a pitcher of margaritas, and tall glasses of ice water.

And then we drove home. It was a very fun birthday.

Putting up the sign

We are much relieved to get some rain today. It has been awfully dry here. We had an inch of rain 10 days ago that evaporated quickly in the hot weather. Hilda and I just finished getting landscape cloth between the rows of corn before the first sprinkles. It’s been coming down gently but steadily since 11:00. Terry is hoping for “a good three-tenths.”

The last time we had rain (May 31) a pair of robins lost no time building a nest of mud and grass under the deck. Seriously, they had it done in a day. I haven’t seen any chicks yet. Because I saw a robin feeding a fledgling on the lawn this morning, I assume the birds under the deck must be trying for a second clutch.

Robin under the deck

A few days ago, I watched a robin torment an earthworm. It picked up the worm, dropped it, stabbed at it, picked it up again, repeat. After some minutes it was able to catch the worm in two places so it made a circle, and then the robin flew off with it. Since observing this the first time, I have been able to verify that robins always make a circle of the worm before carrying it away, presumably to feed chicks. If they are eating for themselves, they gobble the worm linearly.

We have an eastern meadowlark that likes to forage in the lawn this year. I’ve never seen one this close to the house. It is so handsome with its yellow shirt and black tie. How cool is that?

This meadowlark forages in the lawn by the house.

I had just finished mowing Tuesday afternoon and was about to go in to take a shower and get ready to go to work for a meeting when Terry said, “Are you done mowing? Let’s put up the sign.”

We had discussed putting up the sign for his tree business over lunch. I knew it was going to happen in the near future. I did not think it was on the agenda for that day. In Terry’s defense, I had only told him about my required meeting at 4:00. I had not mentioned that I was going to try to catch an optional meeting at 2:45. He was eager to get the sign in. Did I really need another meeting in my life? Probably not.

I have mentioned in the past that my husband has a tendency to overbuild. The sign frame, which was what we were going to erect, weighed close to 200 lbs. He had it laid out horizontally on saw horses. The plan was to attach the top of the sign to the bucket of the tractor to lift it up and pull it to the holes that Terry dug the previous day.

Many years ago when I was post-docking with the USDA, I saw a gruesome film during Tractor Safety Training in which a badly secured heavy chain with hooks snapped, flew forward, and brained the tractor driver, killing him instantly. So I was pretty sure I was going to die when Terry got out the heavy chain with the hooks. Terry, not having seen the film, was unconcerned. He put the chain around the tractor bucket and slipped the hook around it to make a loop. He wrapped a strap with hooks around the top of the sign and hooked the strap to the chain. He hopped on the tractor and lifted the bucket while I awaited my fate.

The chain held as the sign rose to a 45° angle. Terry climbed down and instructed me to move the sawhorses and boards from my side while he did the same on his side. He got back in the driver’s seat and started backing up. I did what I could (which was next to nothing) to get the posts lined up with the holes. With the sign as close as he could get it and the bucket as high as it went, Terry and I pushed and jiggled until the ends of the posts were in the top of the holes.

The bucket didn’t go high enough to get the sign vertical, and the posts would not go in the holes at an angle. Also at this point, the tractor was backed up to a sizeable corkscrew willow. Terry explained that we were now going to brace the sign with 2 x 2’s while he disengaged the bucket. Soon I was standing beneath a 6 x 6 cedar beam braced by a puny-looking 2 x 2. I was pretty sure I was going to die when the 2 x 2 snapped and the beam landed on my head.

In reality, what happened is that the sign started moving sideways as soon as Terry released the hook from the bucket. I heaved in the opposite direction while Terry ran to the other side to put in another brace. Very slowly, as I steadied the sign, Terry moved the tractor by inches back and forth, right to left, to get the bucket clear and not mash the corkscrew willow. At one point, we had to lower the sign a little to get the bucket past it. Amazingly, he spared the willow and got the tractor moved out of the way.

The sign frame with corkscrew willow behind it. The blackbird on the top thinks we put it up for him.

In the final step, we each took a post and got the sign dropped in the holes. And it was way off of level. Terry got some temporary braces in, and I was dismissed to go to my meeting. By the time I got home, he had it level. The next day, he put cement around the posts. Next step: paint.

Sprouting seeds

No rain for us. We had an inch of rain recently, but it doesn’t last long in this hot weather. (Note: I do not expect any sympathy from California residents.) We started the morning so hopefully, watching green on the radar moving in from the west. We got two drops of rain at 10:30, and that was that. The tadpole vernal pond, by the way, is long gone. I don’t know if the tadpoles made it to metamorphosis or not, but all the raccoon prints in the mud suggested that they ended up as hors d’oeuvres.

And so we water, thankful that we put in the drip lines right away. The garlic, onions, and potatoes have been weeded. For a brief period of time, we can tell ourselves that we are caught up. A few of the potatoes are already quite large. Others are just below the surface. I am proud that I only whacked off one with the hoe. It takes a gentle touch until the plants are clearly visible.

The biggest potato so far

Planting the hills of cantaloupe is tricky. The dripper causes erosion, so the crap shoot is trying to plant the seeds where they won’t get washed away. I got lucky on this hill.

Cantaloupe sprouts not washed out by the dripper

The zucchini and patty pan are also sprouted.

Patty pan sprouts

The corn is up. Soon there will be the life and death decisions of which will be thinned and which will remain. My tendency is to leave too many. I have found that reminding myself what a lot of work it is to dig up the stalks at the end of the season goads me to ruthlessness.

Corn seedlines

A few of the tomatoes have flowers. It’s a tease. There won’t be tomatoes for many weeks yet.

Tomato blossoms

We have a volunteer patch of yellow hawkweed near the fifth oak. It is obviously spreading by roots. I kept it mowed last year, and the population just got larger. This year I let it flower just to see what it would look like. What I have learned is that the flowers open in the morning and close at night. I’ll probably mow it down next time. The yellow hawkweed isn’t as pretty as the orange variety.

The whole patch of hawkweed

Yellow hawkweed up close

Chicken aprons and tomato cages

It seemed like a good idea when I read about it on the Internet. We’ve had trouble with some of the hens pecking the others. Four of the hens, Nadia and Gracie among them, have featherless backsides, sometimes with wounds.  This is bad because chickens are cannibals and can peck a hen to death once they see blood.  I looked on a couple of chicken websites and found that there are chicken aprons that cover the back and prevent damage. They are designed for rooster-related injuries, but will also work with pecking problems. They were also very cheap. Hilda ordered some.

The chicken apron is a rectangle of a sturdy but lightweight fabric with two slits. The concept is to slide the wings into the slits and position the apron over the back. We figured our best chance of catching the hens was in the morning. Chickens don’t see well in the dark, and I preferred going out early to staying up late.

On Saturday, we went out at 5:45. We caught the chickens that didn’t need aprons one at a time and put them in the run. We got an apron on Nadia without too much trouble and tossed her over the fence. Gracie is usually pretty friendly. We did her second. When I put her in the run, she couldn’t stand. She is such a spaz. The 2-ounce apron was enough to throw her off balance, and there she flopped on her side.

Nadia and Gracie in their (white) aprons.

Charity is not part of the chicken world view. As soon as the hens sensed Gracie’s predicament, they surrounded her and went in for the kill. I rushed into the run, shooed away the bystanders, and adjusted the apron so Gracie could stay upright.

I caught Chloe next. She was having none of this apron stuff. I finally put one hand over her eyes, which settled her enough for Hilda to get one wing through the apron. She took over holding Chloe’s head while I did the other side. And she went into the run.

We gave up then, leaving Cleopatra with a bare backside. Chloe spent the better part of the day in the coop. On Sunday, I found her apron in a nest box. Gracie had wriggled out of hers by this morning. We are going to cut off Nadia’s apron if she still has it on tomorrow. The new plan is to let the chickens out of the coop sooner in the morning, based on the hypothesis that the pecking occurs while the hens are awake and cooped up, so to speak, from sunrise until 7:00, when we have been letting them out.

It’s been a hot week here in the country. We have finally gotten the garden planted. Every year is the same. First, you put in the plants you want. Then you spend a month pulling out the plants you don’t want. After that, the harvest begins, and you spend more time standing at the kitchen sink than playing in the dirt. I enjoy surrendering to this seasonal rhythm.

There are many things about getting the garden planted that are a literal pain in the butt, as well as the hamstrings, knees, shoulders, and hands. The extra effort on the front end pays off generously as the summer progresses. We lay down landscape cloth between the rows to block the weeds. The tomatoes get a landscape cloth grid followed by newspaper around the plant. Then there’s the drip irrigation. I whined extensively about that last year, so I won’t repeat it. I will say that the hot weather made getting the air out of the lines less unpleasant, although unpredictable squirts of water in the face are never on the list of the Top 10 Things That Are Fun. With all that done, we put the tomato cages on. We planted all 36 tomatoes in a day, which was brutal. The tomato cages have a foot of chicken wire at the bottom, and I feared that if we didn’t get all the way to the tomato cage installation, the rabbits would eat every plant by morning.  I did the first three rows and laid out the fourth row while Hilda had lunch with a friend.  Hilda finished planting the last row.

Tomatoes in their cages

The next day, we put in the peppers. In the course of the morning, Hilda casually mentioned that she had planted 4 Supersweet 100’s and only 2 Sun Golds, which she thought was peculiar since we preferred Sun Golds.

“That’s not right,” I said. “I’m sure I laid out 4 Sun Golds and only two Supersweet 100’s.”

“I didn’t look at the map,” Hilda replied. “I should have asked. “

Sure enough, the map showed 4 Sun Golds and two Supersweet 100’s. The tags showed one Sun Gold, 2 Supersweet 100’s, another Sun Gold, and two more Supersweet 100’s. How does this happen?? I looked right at those tomato labels and put the wrong ones in the tray to bring to the garden. I got the two Sun Golds from the green house, took off the cages, drippers, and newspapers, dug up the wrong plants, and replaced them with the right ones. And the newspapers, and the drippers, and the cages. Grrrr. I hate it when I make extra work for myself.

Putting news papers between the peppers for weed control

We planted 7 rows of various seeds and two rows of Coles (kale, cabbage, Brussels sprouts). I couldn’t for the life of me make sense of the drip lines I had left and had to completely refigure one of them.

Kale, Brussels sprouts, and cabbages with newly configured drip lines

The final step, completed this morning when the breeze was relatively low, was row cover over the Coles and the beans. High winds earlier in the week made the task impossible. The row cover decreases predation quite a bit. If the bugs can’t see the plants, they don’t bother them.

Row cover to hide the plants from things that would otherwise eat them

And then we started weeding.