— Dear Friends, Halden,

Well, Clyde, I'm glad you liked the history of our footlog. Fred had suggested I send the footlog story, as he thought you'd like it. And, yes, you're right about not being bothered with many salesmen.

The one salesman we could count on (he came once a year through the hill via our pasture road) was the Rawley man with his truck loaded with condiments, spices, extracts, salves, ointments, liniment and goodness knows what else.

I would have a list compiled of the products I wanted enough for a year. Some of these Rawley products, I just felt I had to have. I just felt that some of these products (such as vanilla extract, peppermint and liniment) were superior to any other brand.

Of course during the summer we could go to town via our pasture road with our auto, but we used the auto sparingly and usually bought nothing other than items that we had expressly gone to town for. And seldom went in the grocery store except to settle our account (on a monthly basis) and receive the "treat," usually candy or fruit that the grocer customarily awarded his customer when paid their bill. And, believe me, our grocery bill was pretty modest.

I kept a list of grocery items that I felt were really essential and would call my order in via telephone. Our grocer (Clay Shaw at the Center Grocery) would pack our order neatly in a box or sack that we could easily carry across our footlog. We were pretty good at "walking the footlog," but all the same, if the order was too large to carry with one hand, we just managed to get along until we went to town.

Of course here I'm talking about summertime when we could get into or out of the ranch with the auto.

When we ordered our groceries by telephone, Mister Shaw would put our order on the mail stage (the back doors of the grocery stage and the post office were just a few feet apart, so this was quite convenient). The mail stage in those days was Berky Byers' Model A pickup. Berky was happy to deliver our order to our mailbox for 10 or 15 cents; that extra income, in fact, was quite welcome.

During low-water (which included all winter) we could cross the footlog to catch the stage, or more frequently ride to town with one of our neighbors. The trouble with riding the stage it ran in the wrong direction for most of our needs coming from town in the morning and returning to town in the afternoon.

Of course, in dry summer weather we could motor to town in our automobile, via our dirt road out through the pasture, and our horse could get us to town at any season: team and sled all winter, wagon or buggy any time the roads were bare, saddle horses any time.

But, you can imagine that we were a bit envious of our neighbors who used their autos year-round. And you can bet Fred jumped at the offer to dismantle the old Sarvis Lumber Mill a building constructed of 36 foot long six by 12 inch Oregon fir timbers ideal stringers for the bridge we had dreamed of for more than eight years.

Will keep you posted on the building of our bridge!




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