Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The Plums Are Lost In The Past "Clue XXVIII"

N 40 degrees 7.800 minutes W 87 degrees 44.655 minutes

That night, about 4:30 they had gone to an antique mall and until it closed at 6 p.m. they did not leave for supper. Back the next morning when it opened America left 4 antique press back chairs richer and the Colonel’s wallet left a bit poorer. When the chairs were finally coerced, into the only space left, in the minivan, the Plums started on the road again at about 10:45 a.m.

The rolling hills of western Ohio were left behind. The flatter, farmed country of America’s bread basket opened up in front of their eyes. That must be healthy country because the big trucks, the ones with 18 wheels were breeding out there! As many trucks as 8 in a grouping were continually out numbering the personal vehicles on the road. The Plums continually hope this means a bettering economy.

At about 2:30 p.m. America and the Colonel noticed an interesting sight, a salt kettle. Salt was a very rare commodity on the frontier, it was the “gold” that lured settlers west in the 1800’s. It was the first non-farming industry in the county. The salt springs near there were first used by the Kickapoo and Pankeshaw tribes. The first well was drilled in 1819 but full scale production did not begin in 1824. About 100 gallons of brine were needed to produce on bushel of salt which sold for $1.50.

While Mrs. Plum remembers that her diet of salt is limited, the Colonel noted that the clock needed set back an hour. With an extra hour added to their day, they left the fascinating history of the area behind and plotted the next leg of their journey. Passing by land this time dotted with baby oil rigs, looking like those plastic birds that dip their noses into a glass of water to entertain Great Grandma. In the same fields the corn was barely starting to show color, but definitely no ears of corn! A sign by the road said they were at 90 longitude degree. That spot marks where a person or thing is ¼ the way around the earth (from Greenwich, England).

The Colonel and America spent the night, not in the Alps, nor with elephants, not in Persia either, but conquered sleep all the same.

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Patsy Cline "The Wayward Wind"
Oh, the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And I was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind.....

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