Carriage Hill Farm – Page 19

r.i.p. barnaby millstone

Posted on September 14, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

It is with great sadness that I must inform you all of the death of our beloved Barnaby Millstone. Barnaby was the Egg Production Manager and a real fixture at Carriage Hill Farm. Many of you remember that he was a rare bird… a friendly rooster. Part of Barnaby's good demeanor was probably due to the fact that he was all but blind and probably didn't know you were standing so close to him. Still, he was a fine handsome old rooster. We will all miss him dearly.

If you would like to read our original interview with Barnaby, you can read it here: Interview With Barnaby Millstone

a visit from bea

Posted on September 11, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Jeanne liked Beatrice Miller. She was her favorite niece and everybody called her Bea. The young woman was good company and good help. She had been staying the week and helping her aunt Jeanne with the late summer canning. Today had been applesauce and green beans. Yesterday was the last of the ripe tomatoes. While the jars cooled, the two talked and knitted socks. Bea was full of the news of friends and family.

There were new babies. The Harpers had a new buggy they had bought in Columbus. Columbus! More than three days ride. Jeanne had always wanted to visit Columbus, the state capitol. Dayton was the biggest city that she had ever seen and Columbus was almost unimaginable.

As Bea chatted away, Jeanne's hands flew. The needles clicked quietly as the sock grew in length. This was a fine way to spend the afternoon. Her chores were much more enjoyable with good company. As the time flew by, Jeanne learned that the Methodist church had decided to finish their bell tower with a tall steeple. Evidently, the money to finish the construction was being donated by Emmet Durney, a man that Jeanne did not know. The Clausons were Episcopalians and did not attend the same church.

"Bea, who is this young man? What do you know of him? I do not know the family."

"He is a farmer like Papa. His parents, the Durney's have a large farm out towards Huber. Papa says that they have almost two thousand acres. Can you imagine?"

"That is a lot of land. I don't know that we would know how to work it. I think that I like our farm just the size that it is."

"Auntie, they have paid families that help them to work the farm. I think they must be rich. Emmet must have his own too. Wealthy enough that he provided the money to finish two other projects as well. A new window in the vestibule and benches in the choir loft. And auntie Jeanne, he is handsome and has pretty blue eyes!"

Jeanne laughed, did her niece feel some tenderness for the man? When Jeanne asked, the child blushed crimson and smiled. Jeanne knew most of the influential families in the area. Why was she not familiar with the young man?

"Young Mr. Emmet has his own farm?"

"Oh yes, he bought it after he returned from the war. I think you know of the place. Along the national road outside of Donnelsville, the farm lane has two large cedars near the road.

Jeanne knew the farm but did not know that it had recently changed hands. The old man that lived there had passed away two years past. She supposed that his wife must have moved in with family and had decided to sell the farm.

"The war has been over for six years now. Has Mr. Durney been living with his parents since his return?"

"Oh no ma'am, he only returned in March of last year and bought the farm straight away. Some say that he tarried in Atlanta and Chattanooga after the war. I can not imagine why. I would turn my horse to ruin trying to get home. I would miss Mama and Papa far too much to linger."

With that said, Jeanne looked at the watch pinned to her apron and stood up. Placing her unfinished sock in a basket along with the yarn, Jeanne turned towards the pantry.

"That will have to be the last of young Mr. Emmet Durney for today, child. It is time that we started the biscuits for dinner. Your uncle will be hungry when he brings the horses in. Will you fetch Stella from the barn while I get things started? Bring in milk and butter from the spring house on your way back."

As her niece closed the door behind her, Jeanne forgot about Emmet Durney and started to gather flour, bowls and her rolling pin. There was work to do.

I would like to thank you for reading along as my imagination creates the story surrounding the death of Ellie Clauson. Thank you for your support, encouragement and kind comments. You can find the previous parts of the stories here in chronological order (not the order that I wrote and posted them):

barn dance!

Posted on August 22, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Saturday nights are made for getting out and having a great time. For me, this Saturday meant the fall dance in the barn at the farm. I'm not much of a dancer. I do like to dance but, most of my dancing occurs at home with the stereo blasting. I can dance however I want and the only one laughing is my wife. Unless you are dancing at a wedding or you are a square dancer, old men should pretty much only dance behind closed doors. The rest of the world does not want to see us wiggling our sagging old man bottoms. It's just a fact. I can live with it.

All this is to say that because I have no idea how to square dance, I didn't dance on Saturday night. Square dancing intimidates me. Any dancing that requires a traffic cop calling out instructions must be too complicated for my little pea head. I'd rather watch the other people dancing in their complicated patterns while I sit back and tap my toes to the music. Besides, I am always too busy with my camera.

And afterall, isn't that better for everybody? You get to look at the pictures and I get to avoid injury. Sounds like a win-win situation for everybody involved.

see jane. see jane run

Posted on August 21, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Jane is one of the percherons at Carriage Hill Farm & I have been trying to warm up to her lately. Imagine my delight when I walked up to the fence yesterday evening and she came running…. right past me and into the corral where there was fresh hay to eat. Man, was my ego deflated. She wasn't excited to see me, she was looking for a meal.

Sometimes, that is the way life goes. I made the most of the moment and took this picture as she ran towards me… um, I mean the food. Having a full grown percheron thunder by you is one of those events that makes the ground shake. You can feel the impact of her hooves crashing into the ground as she flys over the ground.

Exposure	0.01 sec (1/100)
Aperture	f/6.3
Focal Length	55 mm
ISO Speed	1600

Note the high ISO, slow shutter speed and large aperture required to take this shot of Jane as she ran in the low evening light.

flower in window

Posted on August 11, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Good morning good people of the internet. If you are a bad peson of the internet, then you are on your own.

Today's image is pretty simple. A potted oxalis plant in the kitchen window at the farm. This image is straight forward. The difficulty lies in the dynamic range of the camera's sensor. I wanted to show the blue skies in the background while still showing some details in the shadows of the flower. A rotating polarizing filter helped to pop the sky by increasing the contrast between the white clouds and the blue sky. Without the filter, the sky would appear almost wite with little distinction between clouds and sky.

Exposure	0.013 sec (1/80)
Aperture	f/5.6
Focal Length	50 mm
ISO Speed	100

Have a great day.

cane

Posted on August 6, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

A little texture for you on a Saturday morning. This is the seat of a caned chair at the farm. I am serriously thinking about submitting it for a photography challenge with texture as the topic. I don't know about you but, I can feel the texture of the cane when I look at this image.

Exposure	0.025 sec (1/40)
Aperture	f/5.6
Focal Length	55 mm
ISO Speed	1600

This image does a fine job of pointing out how well the Sony a55V handles ISO1600. The lack of noise at this range is spectacular. Good job Mr. Sony, keep up the good work.

mowing the pasture

Posted on August 3, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Meet Lee. Meet Lee's beard. Together, they have the job of keeping the grass in the pasture behind the barn in reasonable condition. In the summer months, this means occasionally cutting the grass.

Cutting the grass in the pasture is not quite the same as you and I mowing our lawns. All the prep work we need to perform is to check that we have gas and occasionally check that there is oil in the mower. Lee has a lot of work to do, even before he starts to mow. First off, he has to chase down and harness up a pair of horses.

For today's work, Lee has harnessed up Jane and Maggie and hooked them up to the mower. Maggie is the big girl on the left and one of my favorites on the farm. Together, these two beautiful horses will pull the mower through their own pasture, leaving behind plenty of cut grass for them to eat.

The girls really wanted to get going. As a result, Lee needs to keep a strong leash on them and waited until they calmed down. In the past, this pair has bolted on him and he always shows them that he is the one in control.

Once the girls had settled down, the entire trio headed off into the pasture to get their work done. As the horses pulled the rig, the wheels of the mower powered a gearbox that, in turn, powered the blades on the mower.

Not a bad day to spend your day, watching a horse team in action. The power of the two had no problem pulling the mower with Lee on top. Watching their huge muscles working and seeing how much they enjoy the work is a wonder every time.

just because they are beautiful

Posted on August 2, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Sometimes I create images that are striking in their beauty (at least to me) but, that I don't have a clue what to do with them. I know that I somehow need to share them with you however, they don't fit into one of my stories or I don't know enough about the subject to share something special about them.

Normally when I take a picture, I know the moment I open it up in my photo editor, how I will use it or even that I will never use the image. These are not that kind of image. I think they are wonderful but I have no idea what to do with them. In the past, this means that they would probably never see the light of day again.

I didn't want these images to disappear. I want to share them with you and so, here they are. I think they are beautiful. Not only do I like these photos but, meeting the young lady for the first time, I was really impressed with her. Smart, a little shy, focused, pretty, and very pleasant. She is one of those young people that remind me that the generation growing up behind us has a lot going for it.

I hope you like these images as much as I do. Maybe I get stuck thinking that in order to share photos with you, I need to have a purpose for them. I might be wrong in that respect. Maybe I should let some pictures speak for themselves.

warren doesn’t like girls

Posted on August 2, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Warren had heard the story since he was a tadpole. Evidently there was a princess and she was looking for a prince and when she found a frog with a crown on its head, she kissed it and voila in a puff of smoke, he became a prince, blah, blah, blah. Warren's problem was that every young girl for miles around had evidently heard the same story.

Every year, a fresh crop of young girls would show up at the pond looking for their prince. They would come in pairs or small groups but, never alone. As they approached the water, the girls would giggle and laugh as they looked for frogs and in the event that they found one, they would dare each other to kiss the poor amphibian. The girls never ever kissed the frogs. Eventually, when they were finished playing and had lost interest, they would dispose of the frog by dropping it unceremoniously back into the water. The quick dismissal was what really bothered Warren the most. The girls were completely immersed in their own desires and never thought of the frog. The frog was just a prop in their games. They were all the same.

Not once had warren ever been kissed and in all probability he never would. That my friends is why Warren didn't like girls.

jeanne’s new hat

Posted on July 31, 2011 by Tim McMurdo

Jeanne Clauson is a handsome woman. Though Jeanne is not a prideful woman, she does like to wear pretty things. And so it was with her new hat. The hat was mad of straw and had a nice wide brim that would keep the sun out of her eyes. Wrapped around the black crepe band and trailing down the back was a lovely green silk ribbon. The front was adorned with a matching bow and button. It was a fine hat and she loved it. Her husband had given it to her as a birthday gift though, Jeanne suspected that the extraordinary gift was as much birthday present as it was an attempt to help her through the first anniversary of their daughter Ellie's death.

The last year had been hard on them all but, slowly they were beginning to heal. She missed Ellie terribly and as the anniversary approached, her eldest child was in her thoughts more than usual. The more she thought of Ellie and missed Ellie, the quieter she had gotten and she knew that Asa, her husband, recognized the import of her silence and worried about her. The hat was an extravagance but, she loved him for the gift and the kind thought behind it. She loved her husband. Asa was himself a very quiet man and the hat spoke volumes about the feelings he had for her. Such a pretty hat, the green ribbon was her favorite color and Asa was well aware of that!

One year. Twelve months were not a lot of time to deal with this kind of grief. Still, she was better than she had been a year ago. Unfortunately, Jeanne was not alone in her pain. Two more little girls had been killed. One each, during the winter and spring. Two more children in the ground. Two more families in pain. She did not know the little girl from New Carlisle. She did know the family of Cassie Turner. They were regulars at her church and Cassie and Ellie were on playing terms. No one had seen or heard the beast that had mauled the poor girls.

After each death, hunters and trackers had taken to the fields, the woods and the river beds. All to no avail. No tracks had been found. Nor had they found any sign at all of the animal that had killed her little Ellie and the other two poor little girls. The families in this rural area were becoming alarmed by the cruel and violent loss of three girls in a single year. Children were being kept closer to home and fathers and mothers were vigilantly watching their children, just as she and Asa kept a close eye on their remaining girl, Stella.

Jeanne had her new hat and she thought it was a fine and lovely hat. More than something pretty to place on top of her head, she knew it was her husband's love and kindness that she place upon her hair. The straw and ribbons could not make up for the hard year that lay behind her but, she could smile none the less when she pulled the hat out of its box and straightened the ribbon with her fingers.

Here are the links to the entire series of Elli Claussen stories:

For those that wondered but, were not sure, that the stories might be connected, they are. I have most of the plot worked out on paper and will continue to post new parts of the story as the images become available. This sometimes means that weeks can pass between installments and I am sorry for that. However, I hope you agree that the images help to make the stories come alive.

Thank you once again for your feedback and encouragement. If my story telling is improving and I am becomming more confident, it is only because you have made me more comfortable. Don't hesitate to ask any questions or make comments if you have them.

Tim