Goodby Lancaster; hello Somerset
I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist.
-- Jack London
The Adventure continues - Getting ‘misplaced’ in
I had printed a map of
I finally arrived in
Young’s Century Dairy Farm
Three days became five days on the Young’s Dairy Farm in the town of
Young’s Farm is now operated by Gwen and Jim’s son Denny, and it’s a life that requires hard work and long hours. The Young’s adopted daughter,
My friends, Gwen and Jim Young, spend their summers here and their winters as camp hosts at various RV parks in the Southwest. I met them when I volunteered at
I learned that calves are taken from the mother right after birth. They are taken to the “nursery” (indoor stalls with slat-board floors) where they stay until about three months old. At that point they go into their “training” pasture – their first experience walking in a field – where they learn to graze and to stay away from the electric wire fence. This training pasture was practically alongside Jeremiah and when I arrived home one afternoon, eight of these calves had been delivered. They were standing alongside the fence, moo-ing and bawling. By the second day, they had settled down and were grazing.
The RV parking was delightful and each day ended with Happy Hour where we planned the next day’s activities.
Gwen, Sandy and I traipsed around the area, picking strawberries, having a picnic (my first time having a “garlic bologna” sandwich which was delicious), going through the old jail and Jacob Miller’s Tavern that is being restored, shopping at the Saturday farmers’ market, and making a trip to the “big city” of Zanesville.
Picnic in the park with Sandy (left), new friend Rebecca and Gwen.
Historic highlights include
Jacob Miller’s Tavern: a two story log tavern built in 1807 along the Zane’s Trace
Zane’s Trace:
This is the birthplace and childhood home of General Philip Sheridan (1831 – 1888). There is a huge statue of
On to
I’m now in
After many suggestions from blog readers, I've settled on Bucky. This is short for Buckeye - state nickname for Ohio. Cat has totally ignored him. He's a great addition to my travels.
Church sign
Today in Salem, I saw this sign: "Sign maker on vacation; Come inside for message."
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