April - The Great Escape

The Richards House Bed and Breakfast, Dubuque, Iowa

    First, a heartfelt apology to the readers of the Victorian Technology Institute blog for the absence of a post last month.  As regular readers know, each month's post is a story about the adventures of the month before.  March was a difficult month for many, and I found myself caught up in world events to the extent that I wasn't able to focus on much else.  I hope this month's post will make up for the lack of one last month.  We had some wonderful adventures in April to share with you.  

    As a lifelong and avid golfer, Harvest makes it a point to watch the Masters Tournament each year.  I am not a lifelong or avid golfer (having no depth perception will do that to a person), but I do enjoy watching the tournament as it is held at the lovely Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Georgia, in early April.  The snow here in Wisconsin is largely gone by that time, but it is still quite cold outside with nary a leaf in sight on the trees nor a green blade of grass on the ground, so watching people wandering about in shirtsleeves on green lawns with beautiful landscaping, blooming azaleas, and leafy trees is a temptation even I can't resist.  I even like watching the game.

    It has become something of a tradition for Harvest to arrange a getaway weekend for us on the weekend of the tournament where she can indulge herself in watching the tournament and we can go antiquing or sightseeing as well - something for her; something for me.  This year Harvest outdid herself by arranging a stay at The Richards House in Dubuque, Iowa.  Dubuque, located on the Mississippi River, has a large historic area including the stately home in which we stayed.  The Richards House is only one of the truly magnificent houses right downtown.  

    

    Mr. Richards was certainly well to do by all accounts  He was a banker and a legislator, and the home built in 1883 is a testament to his wealth.   This is the sort of home a local historical society will fit up to look as it did when the owners were living in it.  The public is then invited to walk through, carefully guided up and down stairs by a docent whose eyes are sharp for mischief makers, while being prevented from getting at all close to anything by an endless string of satin barrier ropes.  It's lovely and completely untouchable, like being in the Louvre.  Now imagine being able to get beyond those barrier ropes.  Imagine no barrier ropes at all.  Imagine being able to stay there, eat there, sleep there.  This is the Richards House.  It's absolute heaven for me.  Harvest showed me just a few photos to whet my appetite, and I nearly swooned.  I packed some of my fancier Victorian dresses and nice Victorian boots - the ones that are too formal for wearing out here in the country - and the three of us (Bear was welcome to stay as well) tootled down the road.

    The owners, David and Michelle Stuart, are still in the long process of returning the exterior of the house to its former glory, but the interior is stunning.  David is even more fond of center draft oil lamps than I am, and they are everywhere.  Some have been electrified, but very carefully so as not to spoil them.  There are coal burning fireplaces everywhere that really work.  Every room except the kitchen - and I do mean every room - had stained glass in it somewhere, and true to grand Victorian houses, there were lovely pieces of period bric-a-brac on almost every available surface.  The Victorians loved clutter; the more the better.

The stained glass windows  in the reading nook of the Library Suite

    Since there was only one other guest there when we arrived, we were able to see all but one of the rooms, each one just as beautiful as the last, including the one which had been the children's nursery, where the marks on the wall used for measuring a child's height were left in place, complete with names and dates.  Michelle gave us not only the history of the house itself, but she talked about their experiences in restoring such a grand old lady.  It's been a labor of love. 

    Harvest had chosen the finest room in the house, the Library Suite, for our stay.  This had been the actual library in the house, complete with a reading nook and floor to ceiling bookshelves.  There was a  small bathroom off one of the rear walls, and it had the biggest clawfoot bathtub I've ever seen comfortably situated next to one of the two working fireplaces in the room.  Of course we used it. I never waste an opportunity for a soak in a clawfoot bathtub when I can find one.

 

One of the two fireplaces in our room.                                                       My dress and shoes, not props, next to the clawfoot tub

                                                  

    As you may well imagine, I felt right at home.  More at home, in fact, than I feel almost anywhere else.  It was such a pleasure to wear my "full Victorian" clothes and to fit right into an environment that suited them.  I had dropped back in time.

                           Bear and I enjoying  the reading nook and reading The Five Little Peppers All Grown Up

    Being fond of old books, I browsed the collection in the bookcases in the library and found, to my surprise, an 1890 edition of one of Margaret Sidney's books: The Five Little Peppers All Grown Up.  I had read The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew as a child, and I hadn't known that it was part of an entire series of books.  My chances of finding one of the books was infinitesimally small, yet here it was.  So while Harvest watched the Masters Tournament in the afternoon, I snuggled down into a chair in the reading nook with a cup of tea and the book and had read nearly half of it before we had to leave.  Of course, upon arriving at home, I immediately went in search of the 1890 edition and had it in the house within a week so I could finish it.  Alas, I seem to have far less time for reading here at home, but I'm enjoying it a few pages at a time, and it has given me a renewed interest in reading more obscure novels of the period which seem to be found only in antique stores now.  

    We didn't lack for good food and beverages while at the Richards House.  Each room had a tray with Victorian style wine glasses which could be filled with wine or other beverages located on the second floor right next to covered glass plates of homemade cookies or small cakes available for munching on at any time.  Breakfast was served in the music room or the formal dining room each morning.  There was always juice, coffee, and tea followed by a fruit dish such as pears stuffed with blueberries and poached in red wine, an egg dish or some kind such as an egg and cheese bake; and on the two days we were there, we were treated to homemade pancakes one day and homemade waffles the next.  Michelle makes all of it from scratch by herself.  I don't know how she does it, but it was wonderful.

    No vacation is complete for us without a trip to a vineyard or cidery and at least one antique shop, so we did both.  I was delighted to find a beautiful center draft oil lamp with nary a scratch and which needed nothing at all to make it work properly. 

 

The new center draft oil lamp

 

    It came home with us, packed to within an inch of its life to prevent breakage.  It works perfectly which can't be said for most center draft oil lamps since most of them are at least 100 years old.  I was very lucky to find one in such great condition.  

    Once back from our luxury weekend, it was time to get back to planting. Last fall I had asked Scott Johnson from the Low Technology Institute to allow me to help with planting this year's flax crop.  Scott and I co-taught a two-weekend workshop on flax growing and spinning last year, and I wanted to learn the growing end of the process (see the September 2021 blog post Flax to Linen the Low Technology Way).

On a chilly, damp day in mid-April, Scott got out the seeder and we measured out the rows using a cord stretched between two poles.  We measured out the rows one a a time, and I ran the seed spreader along a row before we measured out the next one.  As it's pushed along, the seeder creates a furrow and then drops a pre-measured amount of seed into each furrow.  Scott kept reminding me not to be so precise in trying to line up the seeder along the measuring cord: "Field crop, remember.  Field crop."

                                                                                My maiden voyage with a seed spreader

     I wish I could say that I was faultless in my use of the seed spreader.  It looks simple, but there is a knack to using it, particularly on ground that is cold and wet.  The harrow would get clogged with clods of cold earth from time to time which prevented the wheel that drops the seeds from turning.  This required Scott to pry the goo loose so I could carry on.  Early on, I accidentally tipped the spreader to one side while navigating the end of a row, and Scott and I scrambled to gather up the precious seeds I had lost in the tip.  If you've ever seen dill or fennel seeds, flax seeds are about the same size, which is to say they're barely visible and hard to get hold of.  It could have been worse: carrot seeds are impossible.  The end of that row will have a clump of flax as a visible testament to my learning curve.  We lost very little of the seed, though,  and there was even a little left over to hand broadcast seeds in the corners of the field, so maybe it won't look as bad as I fear.  Scott was incredibly patient with me, as he always is, and assured me that the flax would come up regardless, which it has.  He has said nothing about the clump, and I haven't asked.  I bask in my current ignorance knowing that I will inevitably cringe at my error later.

    We have recently been enjoying a batch of dandelion shortbread baked by Harvest.  Although she baked the shortbread  in May, I thought I would add it here while I write April's post and while dandelions are still in the yards and fields in abundance.  They will largely be gone by June when the May post is written, so if you want to make dandelion shortbread, now is the time to do it.   Dandelions have a number of medicinal properties, but they also make a delicate jelly which can often be found in the Amish communities farther up the state and delicious shortbread.  The dandelion alters the flavor of the shortbread only slightly, so don't add anything like almond essence or you'll drown out the dandelion entirely.

Dandelion Shortbread

 

1 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 to 1 cup dandelion petals (yellow part only)

2 1/2 cups flour

Pinch salt

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Beat butter and sugar together with a mixer or by hand until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.  Add dandelion petals and beat to incorporate.  Gradually add flour and salt, beating to incorporate fully.  Dough will be crumbly at first, but then it will begin to come together.  Once all the flour is added beat slowly for  another minute or two then knead gently with your hands until the dough comes together.  Roll cookies out and cut with your favorite cookie cutter or press into a shortbread mold if you have one.  Bake at 325 degrees for about 20 to 25 minutes until they are fully cooked on top and brown on the bottom.   Remove to a cooling rack and allow to cool completely.