Innehållsförteckning för April/May 2018 från Country

THE GREEN HILLSIDES surrounding the Hermann Farm Museum are rich in history and charm. In order to preserve the culture of Missouri’s first German farmers, the farm proudly offers an up-close look at how they settled this land. Visitors and tourists would do well to plan for a little extra time when they stop here. The farm, which began as a vineyard and nursery owned by George Hussman, has 200 acres and more than a dozen homes and outbuildings to explore. Five distinct areas of the farm reveal Hermann’s history: a model vineyard and winery; a livestock farm; stables, wagon works, forge and heritage garden; historic houses; and the Hofgarten outdoor venue. Each season offers living history about how 19th-century rural Missourians lived, worked, and shaped the place they called…

I can’t remember when I first wanted land of my own. Luckily, I married someone like-minded. My husband, James, is the son of a pastor whose family of 10 rented an old farmhouse and occasionally worked on the farm. James fell in love with the land as a 4-year-old boy, playing in the creek, chasing cows, picking beans and sitting in a tree while eating ripe mulberries. As for me, I ran wild outside at my grandparents’ house. They gardened a lot, kept bees and had fruit trees. There was a pond for fishing and dipping, plus plenty of room to just be a kid full of imagination. I remember picking up the potatoes as my grandfather dug them and then letting the dirt run through my fingers. Married life,…

One Easter weekend, my in-laws, John and Corky, planned a big egg hunt at my daughter’s house. They bought 96 plastic eggs and lots of candy to fill them. John and I would hide the eggs, and then my younger children and grandchildren would hunt for them. “You think you can find some good hiding places?” John asked. “Not only can I find some great places to hide the eggs,” I joked, “but with my memory, I’ll never be able to find them all.” He laughed. “If there’s candy in them, the children will find them.” The next morning, we were still asleep when the grandchildren pounced on us. “Is it time to hunt the Easter eggs, Grandpa?” my granddaughter asked. I knew I wasn’t going to get any more…

Many years ago, a load of dirty throw rugs turned out to be the last straw for our old Maytag, and black smoke rose out of its top during the spin cycle. So my husband and I decided we had time that day to take the kids into town to buy a new washer before the local co-op closed. The manager didn’t mind staying to help, and in fact gave us such a great deal that we bought the matching dryer. Plus they would deliver the new machines the next morning and take the old washer and dryer off our hands. I was in appliance euphoria as we drove home. It didn’t last long, though. As we pulled in, we saw the hogs were out and gleefully rolling up the…

She’s 70 now, an age when many folks are starting to eye that comfy recliner in front of the TV. But chances are if there’s an old barn coming down anywhere in northeastern Illinois, Marie Roth will be there. Clad in khakis, wearing leather gloves and hefting a circular saw, Marie will pick through the jumble of wood, looking for pieces that, as she describes it, “whisper” to her. She’ll cart off the selected boards to her Long Grove home, where she’ll wash them and allow them to air-dry before fitting the pieces together like a puzzle and gluing them into place. But it’s only when she starts painting the assemblage in the bold, beautiful colors beloved by every American that it becomes clear what Marie is creating. From the…

It all started when my mom took me to a rummage sale within walking distance of our house. That day, I paid 25 cents for a classic comic book called “Tales of Sherlock Holmes” and some Ideals magazines that were filled with beautiful poetry and photos. It was the beginning of my love affair with barn and yard sales. While searching for something unique and different, I found a bonus—the wonderful folks I’ve met along the way. These sales have become mini social centers, where diverse cultures and age groups form a collectors’ community. Familiar faces appear at every store or sale. Our love for older and gently used items brings us together. Some of us hunt for crocks, art glass, rare books and grandfather clocks. Others can’t get enough…

HOT SPINACH APPLE SALAD DENISE ALBERS FREEBURG, ILLINOIS PREP/TOTAL TIME: 20 min. • MAKES: 10 servings 6 bacon strips, diced¼ cup cider vinegar3 Tbsp. brown sugar9 cups fresh baby spinach2 unpeeled large red apples, thinly sliced1 medium red onion, chopped (about 3/4 cup) DIRECTIONS 1. In a large skillet, cook bacon until crisp. Remove to paper towels. Drain bacon, reserving 2 tablespoons of drippings. 2. In same skillet, combine the vinegar, brown sugar and reserved drippings. Bring to a boil; cook and stir until sugar is dissolved. Cool slightly. 3. Meanwhile, in a serving bowl, combine spinach, apples, onion and bacon. Drizzle with warm dressing; toss to coat. Serve immediately. 1 serving: 117 calories, 7g fat (2g saturated fat), 11mg cholesterol, 135mg sodium, 11g carbohydrate (9g sugars, 2g fiber), 3g…

I met Whisper when I was in college. A young thoroughbred, she was a bit spooky and a lot green. A year later, I was in a major car accident, suffering a traumatic brain injury that would change my life. I battled dizziness, memory loss, sensitivity to light and sound, and migraines— and that’s just the short list. Doctors told me another head injury would be catastrophic, and a fall from a horse was a risk I should not take. An ex-racehorse wasn’t the ideal match for me, but when I rode Whisper a few months later, she was quieter and dependable. Instead of spooking at invisible monsters or trying to break into a trot or canter, she walked quietly as I relearned how to balance. It wasn’t the last…

My Baking Blunder A group of our friends from church were planning a picnic, and it sounded like fun. The only problem was that times had been a bit tight for me, as I was a single mother with four children. What did I have that we could contribute to the picnic? Then a thought struck. I could make a cherry pie! A friend had given me a quart of canned cherries that would make a very nice pie filling. So I prepared the crust, thickened the cherries, and put the pie together. When it came out of the oven, it looked so good and the aroma was wonderful. At the picnic, my fiance, Stu, was the first to take a bite of my pie. I saw a puzzled look…

We were born and raised in Virginia’s beautiful Shenandoah Valley, and we consider ourselves blessed to live here. According to legend, the name Shenandoah derives from a Native American word that means “cleareyed daughter of the stars.” With its gentle mountains, rushing waters and green meadows, the spot fits its name well. Nestled between the Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountains, the valley lies within the watershed of the Shenandoah River. Isolated from the rest of the Virginia colony by the Blue Ridge Mountains, the valley remained largely unsettled by Europeans until the early 1700s, when farmers of German and Scots-Irish descent began making their way from Pennsylvania in search of land suitable for farming. English settlers from the coastal Tidewater region followed in the mid-1700s. These early settlers discovered fertile…

I have delivered mail in eastern Kentucky for the past 33 years. I started straight out of high school, and I think it’s a wonderful job. Each day is memorable. I look forward to seeing friendly faces along my route. There’s a myth that dogs and mail carriers don’t get along, but the doggies on my route love me. One dog, named Bandit, meets me at the gate with his toy almost every day. I take a few moments out of my busy schedule to play fetch with him. If a dog is missing, I keep a lookout. I’ve even taken a few back to their owners. The best rescue has to be Woogie. I’m not sure how he got lost, but he recognized my car, so I held my…

PHOTO TIP To achieve the best lighting when photographing people outdoors, keep the sun at a right angle to your subject. Avoid taking photographs when the sun is directly overhead, as it creates harsh shadows.…

If you journey along a rural road in Preston County, West Virginia, you may pass by Pleasant Grove Baptist Church in Masontown. If it’s 10:45 on a Sunday morning, you will undoubtedly hear the bells ringing through the surrounding valley and hills. The church had its dedication ceremony back in 1891, right after it was built. In attendance at that service were 132 people, including Civil War veteran William McPeck. He was a soldier guarding President Abraham Lincoln on the day that Lincoln was assassinated at the Ford Theatre in 1865. McPeck is buried in our church cemetery. Today, the church offers Sunday school and Bible study. Pastor Mike Harriman and his wife, Jan—who plays beautiful piano music—have led us in worship since 2010. Our attendance is small but growing;…