Prarie Seasons

As a young girl growing up on the North Dakota prairie, the cycle of life revolved around the seasons.

Baby lambs came in February, calves in March and the furry, yellow baby chicks arrived by train in April. All that new life kept us occupied, no matter what kind of weather Mother Nature handed us.

In the middle of all that new life the Gurney and Burpee seed catalogues arrived. Nights were still long and late winter snowfalls left a blanket of moisture in preparation for earth’s thaw and the promise of new plant life.

Tulips and daffodils peeked their way through the soil closest to the farmhouse foundation by the time our mail carrier delivered the garden seeds. By then Mother’s garden blueprint was nearly complete and I remember an extra bounce in her step as she planted and tended her large gardens.

Another vivid memory is of Uncle Albert and the annual potato planting tradition – often on Good Friday if Easter came late that year. On that day the entire community refrained from hard work. Planting potatoes might be a muddy endeavor, but it was not considered hard work. “Place them in the ground ‘eye-up’ and we’ll be eating new potatoes by the 4th of July,” said Uncle Albert.

The youngest son of immigrant parents with one foot in the old country while striding into a new century, Uncle Albert, was spurned by his first love and never married. Coming of age between two world wars, Uncle Albert was a gentle soul who watched his older cousins come home from war torn Europe with mustard gas weakened lungs and he grieved for them. Inheriting his acreage at age 21, he worked the land for a few years, but like so many he surrendered it to the events of The Great Depression. The next decades were spent on the road, first as a carnival worker crossing the Great Plains with his carnival family. “I ran the Ferris Wheel for 17 years,” he said. Later, there was employment with the Northern Pacific Railroad, carrier of Dakota wheat and coal, but abruptly halted by a near fatal accident, long hospitalization and a cash settlement meant to ease his old age, but spent on dreams and drink to deaden the pain in his heart.

So Uncle Albert spent his golden years living with a variety of nieces and nephews. My extended family embraced a tradition of caring for family, with dignity and love. I was an adolescent when Uncle Albert took his turn with us.

Treated as a respected family elder, Uncle Albert helped mother with the garden and domestic chores, assisted dad in the day-to-day farm operation and showed us children how he rolled his own cigarettes while he shared stories of his life “on the road”.

Thus it was Uncle Albert’s fate and our good fortune that we spent our childhood years hearing his stories and enjoying multi-generational family life on the prairie. Why even now, I imagine Uncle Albert is smiling down from his heavenly perch saying, “Place them in the ground ‘eye-up’ and you’ll be eating new potatoes by the Fourth of July.”

Carol Just, Prairie Lights, March 2011