New Release — Bennett’s County by Darrel Sparkman

Sheriff Billy Bennett takes his job seriously—and he’s darn good at it. No one breaks the law in his county. So when he gets a complaint of women dancing naked in the nearby forest, of course he has to investigate. Some say they’re witches, but Sheriff Bennett doesn’t hold with that—he doesn’t allow witches in his county.

But when a self-proclaimed warlock comes looking for them with plans to steal them away, Billy Bennett has him ushered out of Bennett’s County for good. There are no warlocks…only bad men. And Sheriff Billy Bennett will see the law is obeyed, no matter what—or who—tries to bend the rules.

Caught in the middle of an odd battle, the sheriff begins to wonder if he’s bitten off more than he can chew in order to keep law and order alive and well in BENNETT’S COUNTY… Is there any way this can end well?

EXCERPT

     Samuel was about half the size of his wife, a phenomenon I’d seen before. I always looked closely for bruises, but never found any on him. I shouldn’t be suspicious. I’m sure she’s the sweetest thing on earth.

     He sure was jumpy. If you came up behind him and poked him in the ribs, he’d jump about two feet in the air. Some of the boys had taken to coming up behind him on the street and setting off firecrackers. Jumpy. I needed to catch those boys, because the noise was hard on horses. We had a couple run off. One had Arnold on it.

He took his hat off and worried the brim a little. “Well, Sheriff, Emma thinks that witch is at it again.”

     It was a morning for contemplation. The most wonderous thing is how ideas get started—good and bad. Most folks hold their opinions to themselves. Seems the ones we don’t want to hear are always proclaimed the loudest. The dangerous thing disturbing my contemplation is that these people were serious and that was disturbing. There’s no amount of trouble that can come from people who convince themselves in their own stupidity and follow their new-found belief in righteous indignation. I studied them close as I practiced my reply. My lips may have moved some.

     “Which witch?”

     Emma gasped. “There’s more than one?”

     In a practiced move, both turned to the side and spit between their fingers. Hers landed first, but she’s a lot bigger—more power.

     She turned back to me with a triumphant stare. “I knew it. We have an infestation.”

Book review: Trading Horse by Darrel Sparkman

Blurb:
Range detective Jim Murphy digs in his heels to keep from falling in love with beautiful Connie Pinder, a rancher's daughter who's involved in the case Jim is investigating, right up to her pretty little neck. Following the trail of a stolen horse, Jim discovers it's actually a trail of murder, as well as a ruse by a ruthless gunfighter with his sights set on kidnapping Connie. Jim knows he can't let that happen, so that's when the bullets fly! TRADING HORSE by Darrel Sparkman is an action packed adventure full of gun smoke, and unforgettable characters.

My review: 
Trading Horse is a fun story that made me feel like I had my grandpa sitting here regaling the story of how he met and fell in love with my grandma.

You kinda get a feeling there's more to Jim than what needs the eye, but as the story goes on, you become more convinced that appearances are truly deceiving and there's definitely more to the man - even a fancy suit can't hide. Connie is a great match for Jim. Her attitude, charm, and fight keeps him on his toes and keeps her from being boring to him.

It's cute watching them figure the other out and how the meddling of folks around them help to push them along. When you realize just what trading horse means and how it comes into  play, you'll find yourself chuckling and shaking your head.

This is a easy-to-read winsome little story to be lost in for an hour or so.

Purchase links:

New Release — Trading Horse by Darrel Sparkman

Range detective Jim Murphy digs in his heels to keep from falling in love with beautiful Connie Pinder, a rancher's daughter who's involved in the case Jim is investigating, right up to her pretty little neck. Following the trail of a stolen horse, Jim discovers it's actually a trail of murder, as well as a ruse by a ruthless gunfighter with his sights set on kidnapping Connie. Jim knows he can't let that happen, so that's when the bullets fly! TRADING HORSE by Darrel Sparkman is an action packed adventure full of gun smoke, and unforgettable characters.

EXCERPT

     The gambler’s first mistake was trying a bottom deal. It was slick and when that card popped up, he looked at me. There were no words spoken. He knew I’d caught him and then he decided to shoot me before I could name him a card cheat. It was close. For a skilled man there is no faster draw than a sleeve gun.

     His last mistake was in thinking I hadn’t already drawn my pistol. Hidden under the table, it pointed right at him. When he raised his hand like pointing at the ceiling, I knew what was coming. The hand dropped, pointing right at me. When his derringer came into sight I shot him. Fair? Depends on your viewpoint.

     He wasn’t good at his chosen vocation. Normally, the town marshal would run men like that out of town with a stern warning accompanied with a few bruises and a dimple in his hat.

     I didn’t want to shoot him. Given a little time, and us being close together, I’d have tried for a shoulder wound. But he was quick with that derringer and gave me no time at all. The gambler was left with a belly wound. If he was lucky, he might be dead by now. A wound like that was a sure ticket to hell, and it takes days to make the passage. I’ve heard laudanum does no good against the pain.

Book review: Rescue Trail by Darrel Sparkman

Blurb:

Jake Rawlings was broken. One senseless killing and the loss of his wife left him without an anchor. Guilt and bitterness pushed him to turn in his badge. When he decides to follow the trail of a lone woman on the prairie, he’s led to a feisty widow and her daughter fighting for their lives. Saving them was easy. Can he save himself?

My Review:
I quickly fell in love with this story from first page to last!! Rescue Trail is a charming little escape that gives you heart, laughter, and a touch of bad@ss excitement.

Jake is kinda lost and wandering around after losing his wife years ago and hasn't really figured out what to do next. Then he runs into a lady who needs a bit of help, but there's some sparks and attitude she's dishing out. Watching them play off the other and breathe some life back into Jake is a charming hoot.

If you want a quick little story to set up some fun daydreams (because really, I'd've loved to see this become a longer novella or even a full length novel.. Seeing Lady and Jake partner up and take on the world together would be awesome!!) or just to fully entertain when you don't got alot of time for an escape, this story would be perfect!

This part made me giggle probably more than it should have, but it's still so true.

“Lady, there’s only one rule in a gunfight.”
She looked at him with moist eyes. “Which is?”
He leaned toward her. “Don’t get shot.” 


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Book review: The Last Warrant by Darrel Sparkman

Blurb:

When U.S. Deputy Marshal Luke Randall trails outlaw Johnny Ruskin across Indian Territory to Joplin, Missouri, he knows what he’ll find—a wide-open and boisterous mining town full of crooked gamblers, outlaws, lawmen dispensing justice for money, and more whorehouses than outhouses.

He plans to find the killer and put him on a train to Fort Smith—or bury him. Ruskin is as ruthless as they come, and Luke has been doing some thinking on this assignment—does he want to spend the rest of his life wondering if every warrant he serves will be his last? When he meets Sarah McBride, she brings more to the table than a good meal—the offer of the kind of life he’s always dreamed of.

Luke has to finish what he started with Johnny Ruskin, but death is all around him. Can he and Sarah get out of Joplin alive? No matter what, he must serve THE LAST WARRANT…

My Review:

What happens when you get a disillusioned US Marshal trying to figure out what he truly wants out of life -- to keep going till an outlaw bullet gets him finally, or take a chance at having a peaceful, good life back home on his ranch? But what's really waiting back at the ranch but an empty house and some cows?

Luke, while being a tough as nails marshal, also had some quirks that made him a bit softer on the inside, and more human. (I still giggle with some consequences of his job and some injuries that come with it.) He had a sense of honor and forgiveness.... of mercy and respect, for both law-abiding citizens and outlaws (but ya know, the more evil of an outlaw you are, the more ruthlessly he's gonna react and deal with you... just sayin'. haha). But he also didn't let others run roughshod over him. I adored when he first met Sarah and the eyes they made at each other and their connection.

Sarah proved very quickly she was the missing piece Luke'd been looking for -- the perfect woman to handle and fit in with his life, whatever he decided to do. She had a strength and cute sassy attitude that complimented him well.

Oh, and I enjoyed the little cross over with Rawlings from Rescue Trail. :) (I *love* that story!)

This is an excellent short novella that gives you all the goodness of a gritty western with a sweet helping of a love story all wrapped up in an easy to read package. Definitely not a story to skip over when you're looking for a short little somethin' to tide ya over.

Purchase Link:

Useless Words

So, you want to be a writer?

How many times have we heard someone say -- wait, that sounds like an old Ray Price song.

Anyway, do you think it’s easy to write? Correctly? er.. correct?

I’ve finished a short story titled Trading Horse.  I think it’s a good one and need to get it ready to send to my publisher, editor, or submit to the market.  So, how do I make this thing ‘slickern goose grease’ and impress folks?  Let’s look at some guidelines.

I can't write color! No overly descriptive words that they might deem superfluous. So all those old-time writers where every sentence was poetry in motion? Fuggettaboutit. No time for that. In today's instant gratification society, we can't be expected to wade through that kind of stuff.

Looking at published criteria I can’t use really or very.  So, I can’t write, “You’re a very pretty girl.”  Or, if the guy (I’m assuming here) is really gob smacked, “You’re a really, really, very pretty girl.”  So, I guess that leaves, “You pretty.  Or, you ugly.”  Short, but to the point. Yeah, I know. You're beautiful would work too. But every girl wants v e r y tacked onto that.

We can’t use that, just, then or any instance of those, er... that, er... them.  So, lessee, take away the ending ‘that’, then that leaves me with ending the sentence with a preposition (of), and I’ve already qualified the sentence using ‘that’ again.  And ‘then’.  Aw, man! I used ‘then’.  And an exclamation point!  Oh, God.  I can’t do that. OK. Throw it all away. You ugly.

Now we’re into the ‘ly’ words.  It’s a death knell to your work if you use totally, completely, absolutely, literally, definitely, certainly, probably, actually, basically or virtually.

I stumbled upon a great article with a really, really great thought. And the nugget of wisdom was in the comments, not the article. See the article here: Matt Moore's article on adverbs.  And the takeaway? Why not use rhythm, meter and sound in our prose. Speak it. Listen to it. Try Word's text to words function. OK. Back to levity.

But wait! There's more. I cannot convey the amount of vilification heaped upon your psyche if you use start, begin, began, begun, rather, quite, somewhat, or somehow.

Neither may I use said, replied, asked, or use any dialogue tags at all, unless I ask someone’s permission.

Who are they? The permission people? I asked Wiki. They don't know. Siri doesn't know. Google does, but they won't tell me. And I'm scared to death of that Facebook Portal thingee.

Do you think it's hard to write now?  We can’t look down, or up.  Or, wonder, ponder, think, thought, feel, felt, understand or realize. I can't tell you those things, I have to show you. Can't write, I thought about Jenny being pretty. I can only write Jenny pretty. 

I’d grab my burning chest, but I can’t describe it by using breath, breathe, inhale or exhale.  I can’t shrug, nod or reach.  I can’t use long sentences tied together by ands, buts, or frog legs.  (I’m a writer—trust me, I can tie in the frog legs)  Hell, I can’t use a non-approved font.  It's Times New Roman 12 or die.

How on earth or the Federation of Planets do I write a story?

Now, I'll admit. I haven’t sold a ton of books.  Since I write in the western genre, I thought I’d check Louis L’Amour’s stories. I have them all. He’s sold millions.  Just as I thought, most of those monumental mistakes are on his pages.  It’s the same for most of the descriptive prose writing western authors I’ve read.

Yep, Purple Prose... where the written descriptive word resembles poetry and rolls off your tongue to make a beautiful world leap from the pages into your mind. Sigh.

As an experiment I started grabbing books off my shelves in all genres—books written by successful authors.  When I opened a random page, I found the mistakes listed above.  Not all at once.  Gimme a break, here.  So, if they’d done it right, would their books have sold two million instead of one? Or, none at all?

Mystery.

 So, why do the experts want old, new and fledgling writer’s submissions to look like a blank page—dry of wit and empty of beauty? Pretty girls, but never very pretty girls? Or, exceptionally pretty girls.  Maybe just “damn, you nice!” is better. Go to a crowded place and listen. It might surprise you to hear language going that direction. 


When I ask experts about this, I’m told, “Well, you’re no Louis L’Amour.”  That is very, very true.  Like, really, literally very true.  Absolutely true.

But then, I’m betting he was never pushed to turn in something so devoid of feeling it looks like the Klingon version of the user's manual to the Starship Enterprise.


I’ll just keep muddling along and do the best I can.  Even if I use euphemisms and attention grabbing qualifiers… and go broke.  Can’t afford to be a writer anyway.  The conferences alone bust my budget.

One thing I do know.  For every published writer, there are hundreds of experts telling them how to do it, and the rules change at will. Each genre have their own take on things. Each new editor has their own interpretation of the rules.

Maybe some of them are correct.  Surely, (snicker) they have our best interest at heart.

And don’t start throwing your degrees in English at me. I made a D in high school English.  My teacher cried a lot, but was quick to tell me it wasn’t my fault. ( eye-roll ) 😀

I’ll keep writing, trying to perfect the craft.  I must.  Life goes on.


Assignment:  levity.  Look it up.  We need more.  

All photos are attributed to myself or licensed under CCO commons.

Darrel's Website
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Check out my newest release Limestone County.
It's a contemporary western I think everyone will enjoy.


Limestone County  
"Darrel Sparkman keeps readers on the edge of their seats with the laser-precision of a master."
--Linda Broday, NY Times and USA Today bestselling author


                                             "Sparkman's work quivers with a dark western vibe reminiscent of Justified."
                                              --Dee Burks--Bestselling Author

THE MEASURE OF A MAN IS NOT WHERE HE STANDS IN MOMENTS OF PEACE, BUT WHERE HE STANDS IN MOMENTS OF TUMULT.

Jim Lane is pulling himself together after burn-out from a rescue gone bad. A peaceful life on Stockton lake seems just the ticket.

AN EXPLOSION OF ANGER.

Jolted by betrayal, he survives an attempt on his life only to be drawn into a bloody turf war with the Russian mob. County sheriff Rita Morris knows his history and isn’t buying his explanation.

UNREASONING FEAR.

Rita lost her husband to a random shooting. Unsure if she’s ready to move on, she can’t deny the connection she feels with Jim. It’s a complication, but the pair form a united front with a simple message to the Russians. Get out of Limestone County!

A COUNTRY BOY.

Jim Lane knows he can’t lose this fight. When the first bullet flies he steps into a whirlwind of twists and turns, new love, and old friends that hurtle to the end with an ally he never expects... and a blood debt that will keep him looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.

New Release — Tales of the Old West — A Collection of Seven Classic Western Stories

Get ready for seven action-packed stories of the old West that will pull you right in and take you along for the ride of your life! If you love traditional stories of bygone western days, this collection of tales is for you. You’ll find a wide variety of stories included in this anthology by James Reasoner, John D. Nesbitt, Livia J. Washburn, Cheryl Pierson, Darrel Sparkman, and David W. Amendola. 

Saddle up and ride the dangerous range of Indian Territory, search for a deadly mysterious beast, track outlaws, or solve a grisly mystery—and never leave your easy chair! This collection makes a great gift to yourself or other fans of TALES OF THE OLD WEST!

"Pearl of Great Price" by John D. Nesbitt

"Rescue Trail" and "The Last Warrant" by Darrel Sparkman

"Hidden Trails" by Cheryl Pierson

"The Beast of Dead Mule Gulch" by David W. Amendola

"The Bad Hombres" by Livia J. Washburn

"The Prophet Mountains" by James Reasoner

    

A Small Nugget of Wisdom by Darrel Sparkman

darrelsparkman.com

Nuggets of wisdom aren’t always found in famous writings, or by super famous authors.

So let's pose a question.

Is there a difference between your philosophy and your position in life? Does it change with the situation? When the wind is blowing hard one direction, do you pop your sails and go with it or stay the course. It’s the old conundrum—I want to do X but end up doing Y. Not to wax philosophic, but it’s a question that affects author and reader alike.

For the writer it’s the question of staying with the outline of a story or letting the characters go a different way. For some of us that tangent direction is often too compelling to ignore.

It’s different for the reader. Are you being bandied about with no clear path forward? Need to tack sideways? Big questions.

When it looks like you’re going to have to fight like that proverbial third monkey on the ramp to Noah’s ark, which truth will come out? How will your ending be written? Will your philosophy hold true or will circumstances (position) change it?

One of the best sequences of dialogue addressing this comes from Richard Jessup’s novel CHUKA, published in 1961. The hero is surrounded by an enemy that’s overwhelming and mad dog crazy. Is there a chance? Can he save himself, or more importantly, can he save the girl? You might consider CHUKA a romance novel because the hero sees the girl he wants and fights for her with everything he has—like that third monkey.

***

In the book, on the eve of a hopeless battle, a Spanish Duenna was verbally eviscerating the gunfighter about his choices in life. She asked if he had a philosophy. He’s a bit startled. And yes, there will be some paraphrasing.

Chuka tells her there is a difference between his philosophy and his position. Naturally she is skeptical. After all, her job is to protect the young woman in her charge—especially from a common man who hires out his gun.

The gunfighter continues, “A man lives in a country, a place and a time. To live, a man has to be settled on the way he wants to live.”

“Guided by certain principles.” She said.

“Those rules in life, or principles as you call them are simple. Truth comes first. Second comes honor. The third, but by no means less important than the others, is courage.”

Chuka held up his hand to stop her interruption.

“Now my position. My position is to walk with truth, hold on to my honor and find courage to help me over the rough spots.”

She seemed amazed. “Have you found it hard to hold this position?”

“It’s hard to hold it even for a little while. Why? Because we don’t always want to tell the truth, especially when it hurts us or someone we care for.

“And we can’t always hold on to our honor or we’d find ourselves fighting all the time.

“Courage is the hardest of them all. Most times when we find courage it can be too late or too little.

“It takes courage to face truth and courage to recognize your honor is not another man’s honor. One man’s truth, or honor, or courage isn’t a test for anyone else.”

***
   

How often does that happen in life? It’s easy when we’re writing it. We can always go back and edit in the best decision for a certain situation. It's the infamous re-write. You look at the draft copy and say, “Well, that didn’t go as expected.” And then go back and fix it.

But, often in real life we see the right choice going away in the rear-view mirror. Hesitation becomes the dance of the day and the choice we want… slips away.

So, maybe the best lesson is in the less quoted line. “Be settled in the way you wish to live." If you have a position, know exactly what it is and why. If you say you believe in something, can you tell someone why? Otherwise, we’re lost.

Know what you want. Know what you’re willing to do for it. Be settled in it.
​
Let’s write that story line into our lives.



In the story THE LAST WARRANT Luke Randall knows what he wants--a small horse ranch west of Springfield Missouri. It's there waiting for him. All he needs is a reason to give up the Marshal's service and go. Sarah gives him a reason and then takes their position in her own hands.  And yes, toward their goal.

Available October 9, 2018



Have a blessed day.

Darrel






                                                                     

Darrel Sparkman

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The Frontier Garden by Darrel Sparkman

                                                               darrelsparkman.com

Jody Lea Stewart recently wrote a great article titled Food For Life taking us back to the days of our grand parents and great grands. Building on that, I'd like to take us back farther. Way back.

                              The Frontier Garden

Stories of westward expansion are often fraught with inaccuracies. Media and writers go with the exciting parts. “If it bleeds, it leads.” Or, “don’t waste time with boring life, just write the important stuff.” So, we get war and conflict, cattle drives, gunfights, bank robberies and the like. Tension. Conflict. There was plenty of that going on. But, there was another area of adventure seldom mentioned.

What about the settler and his wife braving the wilds for a promise of owning their own land—beholden to no one—and whose existence was on occasion protected by the exciting souls we write about and see in movies.

I want to focus on gardening. What? I know. BORING! I can visualize editors throwing paper in the air, gathering them together and then setting it all on fire. Or me, if they could catch me.

But, you know? People eat. Trail drovers often survived on beef and beans. I’ve read they’d ride miles out of their way for a little variety. Vegetables, air-tight (canned) peaches, dried apples, or bear-sign (doughnuts) come to mind. A good cabbage stew? Yuck! I’d have to be real hungry.

If the settler, or ranch owner, wanted to plant a garden for culinary variety, where did they get their seed? How did they know when to plant various crops? How do they care for them? Many of these settlers just pulled foot and left their homes in the east for the siren call of the west. They weren’t always farmers by nature or training. Some were like people today that say, “if the world goes to pot, I’ll just grow my own food.”

​Uh, no you won’t. Other than kicking the dirt with their feet, how do they get started? All good questions to avoid sore toes. A good many in the western expansion died before they learned the lesson. 

One of the main staples of the American Indian was the three sisters. And for good reason. Beans, maize (corn), and citronelle’s (squash, pumpkins) can be stored for future use.

Some tribes grew these to supplement the meat they harvested. Especially since they’d last up to six months in storage. Add in nuts, berries and occasional fruit and their diet was well suited for their life style. Some were mixed together to make Stanica, Pemmican, or their own version of Trail Mix.

The problem? They worked at it year-round from can see to cain't,  and it took a huge area to supply their needs. Many moved to keep up with migrating herds of animals. In some cases the Osage would plant their crops, tend them for a while and then leave to go on a buffalo hunt. I should note that I’m focused west of the Mississippi.

The fate of the Osage veggie crop was left to Mother Nature. I can imagine the beasties of the forest just loved that. They still do. When I walk away from my garden, I can see their beady little eyes staring at me from the fence row. And the trees. And peeking around the garage. And in the sky as their shadow crosses the land. Those sneaky little... well. Ahem.

As a side note—necessity is always the mother of invention. By 1829 some 3500 eastern Cherokee had already moved willingly to Arkansas from their lands east of the Mississippi. Add that number to the several thousand Osage and Delaware, you can see how that would deplete the supply of ready game. The Cherokee brought their farming skills with them. In a census done that year, they had 22,000 black cattle, 1300 slaves, 2000 spinning wheels, 700 looms, 31 grist mills, 10 sawmills, 8 cotton gins, 18 schools and one newspaper. These folks were getting it done.

A funny thing. This same type census collected in 1811 also reported 20,000 hogs. In 1829 none were reported. Clerical error? Dunno. But I think we know where all those Arkansas Razorbacks came from.
So, while some Native Americans needed a lot of space to survive, what gave the interloping settlers a small advantage? Though playing catch-up with the Cherokee in farming skills, what gave them a subtle advantage over the other tribes?

Some of the settlers should have stopped to take lessons.

Their advantage was the ability to survive on a comparatively small plot of land. Sometimes before they started a dwelling, like a log home, soddy, tent, or converting their wagon—they broke ground for a garden and brought out their precious seed.

What helped them with that? What else? Technology. Yes, even then.

Usually, at least one of the family could read. Women often had a better education than the men. Either way, the information was there for them if they could take advantage of it. There were versions of frontier Cliff Notes and How-To’s every step of the way.

Depending on when their journey started, they may have had a copy of HUSBANDRY AND RURAL AFFAIRS, printed in 1801 by J. B. Bordley. Sitting next to the Bible, there might have been a copy of THE COTTAGE ECONOMY, printed in 1833 by William Cobbett, ref (3). Or, a little later THE KITCHEN GARDENERS, printed in 1847. The information was far reaching and accurate.

You could find information ranging from keeping the garden and small fields clean of weeds and pests, to advice for the young wife to not hang her crockery close to the door lest if fall and shatter when her husband slams it.

Garden seed was a vital and protected commodity and hoarded by the settler. Growing it to harvest and saving seed for the next year was vital. They had to bring everything needed for survival with them. There were no guarantees of trading or buying supplies if they happened upon a town. You can imagine the despair if they lost the contents of their wagon in a river, or other catastrophe. Seeds, plants and tools were their life.

Tending the garden, along with the homestead, was a full-time job. Once that ground was tilled, either by hoe or what nowadays we’d call a chisel plow, seeds were sown, sprouted, nurtured, cultivated and fertilized. When they harvested the crop, the plants were composted for working back into the soil as fertilizer and humus, along with any manure to be found. Many plants were double or triple cropped, like beans or shorter maturing cabbage, lettuce, or carrots and radishes. And the ever-ready staple—potatoes.

When you see scenes in old movies of the men driving cattle over the ‘nesters’ gardens, don’t think nuisance and intimidation—thing starvation.

Settlers often had a few cows or oxen, maybe a horse or two. Extra animals could be butchered in the winter if needed for survival, but they’d rather supplement with wild meat or fowl if possible. Hunger always trumps everything and changes plans.

As with the Native Americans, survival for the settler was a full-time job. They did it by managing a small parcel of land with intensive labor. Of course, if they were successful—they grew. Successful operations tend to begat neighbors, and those grew into communities. If looked at closely, it’s a business model used by off-the-grid folks and homesteaders today. Grow what you eat.



Picture: Hubert with his push-plow in 1918.

Fifty years ago my wife’s family operated a greenhouse and garden center. Most everything we sold, from produce to flowers—we grew. I can tell you, when you are looking at several acres of garden with nothing to keep you company but a sharp hoe and the baking sun, it’s not fun.

Everyone had a garden back then and we sold several thousand pounds of seed a season. Like all things, that changed. We still sell seed, but only a couple hundred pounds. Competition? Nope. There aren’t many gardens left, or the desire to grow.

Is that a good thing that we can go to the store and buy what we need? Always? I hope so. If not, those old books are going to be hard to find.

In 1840 approximately 89% of the American people lived in rural areas of the country. These country folks had the skills and knowledge necessary to supply and/or make most of their food and clothes, tools and shelter, furniture and amusements. They raised crops for food and fodder, cared for livestock, used tools we never knew existed to do things we never knew needed doing. And sometimes, they wrote down their thoughts and knowledge and published them for others.

Those numbers have flipped. Since 1840 people have been leaving the farms and heading for the cities. According to the last census, there are about 81% of us living in urban areas. The skills and knowledge it took to be self-sufficient are gone. We have become more and more dependent on modern accoutrements, just in time deliveries, and super stores. Our great grandparents did a wider variety of tasks before breakfast than we do all day long.

Not that I'm knocking modern living. I hope to never see the insides of an outhouse again. Ever.

Have a super day at whatever gets your garden growing and motor running.

 Darrel Sparkman

Credit: Ruralskills.blogspot.com and D.B. Beau

Mother Earth News
Indians of The Ozark Plateau, by Elmo Ingrenthron
Husbandry and Rural Affairs Picture provided
The Cottage Economy Picture provided
1918 Garden - Hubert with his push plow

Darrel Sparkman resides in Southwest Missouri with his wife.  Their three children and eleven grandchildren and great grands live nearby.  His hobbies include gardening, golfing, and writing.  In the past, Darrel served four years in the United States Navy, including seven months in Viet Nam as a combat search & rescue helicopter crewman.  He also served nineteen years as a volunteer Emergency Medical Technician, worked as a professional photographer, computer repair tech, and along with his wife Sue, owned and operated a commercial greenhouse and flower shop.  Darrel is currently retired and self-employed.  He finally has that job that wakes you up every day with a smile

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