Cowboy Thanksgivings: More Beans, Less Bird

In the Wild West, there were no football games, no refrigerators, and certainly no fancy gravy boats. Instead, Thanksgiving for a cowboy often meant Dutch ovens in the dirt, beans by the fire, and gratitude that you and your horse made it through another year.

Gratitude, Cowboy-Style

Cowboys weren’t known for long speeches, but they understood gratitude. Things they might be thankful for:

A horse that stayed sure-footed.

Their saddle and bedroll.

Dry socks and boots that hadn’t worn through.

A cook who didn’t burn the biscuits.

Another sunrise on the trail.

Did Cowboys Even Celebrate 

Thanksgiving during 

the Wild West Era?

Thanksgiving didn’t become an official national holiday until 1863, when President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a day of thanks in the middle of the Civil War.

For most cowboys, it was just another day of dust, sore muscles, hard tack and beans. But on a ranch or in town, they might have a hearty dinner.

Frontier Feasts

Turkeys weren’t always around depending on the region. Venison, rabbit, or prairie chicken were easily hunted. On cattle ranches, beef sometimes stole the show.

Beans, sourdough cornbread, and potatoes were common.

Frontier families relied on root veggies like turnips and carrots, or dried beans and peas from the summer’s harvest.

If flour and sugar were on hand, Dutch oven pies made with dried apples or pumpkins were a treat. One cowboy trick was soaking dried fruit in whiskey before baking—both dessert and drink in one slice.

And don’t forget the cowboy coffee. Strong enough to “float a horseshoe.”

Kicking up their heels

Barns, churches, and saloons doubled as dining halls. After eating, musicians might grab their fiddles or harmonicas, people square danced, and many a man told tall tales.

What are you thankful for? 

Feel free to add your comments.

I am thankful I don’t live in the Wild West days. Cooking over a campfire every night? Hard pass. Grocery shopping is plenty of cardio.

I am thankful for my friends, family, and readers.

I am thankful for my health and a cozy place to hang my hat.

I wish everyone a blessed day.

Hugs,

Niki J. Mitchell

 

Pioneer Meals ~ Julie Lence

 

Courtesy Modern Pioneer Mom

 ‘What’s for dinner?’ It’s the phrase everyone across the globe utters daily. Italians are mostly likely serving pasta. The night’s menu in Mexico might include tamales, while over in the Caribbean, folks could be frying fish. In the U.S., dinner ranges anywhere from fast food to chicken & dumplings, to steak & potatoes. At the end of this month, most Americans will sit down to a feast of turkey, ham, potatoes, gravy, and stuffing. With today’s modern stoves,  microwave ovens, gas grills, and deep fryers, preparing a large meal isn’t too difficult or time consuming. Back in the day, it was both. Pioneer women and chuck wagon cooks stood over the fire from sun-up to sun-down cooking the day’s meals. They kneaded dough and churned butter without the help of today’s appliances, and woke early the next morning to start all over again.

Ever wonder what those women and chuck wagon cooks were serving up?

With flour, sugar, corn meal, potatoes, beans, and fruits and vegetables such as pears, squash, corn, and pumpkin filling home larders, pioneer women served a breakfast of coffee, bread & butter, cold meat from the day before, and corn cakes. Lunch was the main meal and included dried pumpkin, beans & butter, turnips, fruit, and some sort of meat (deer, rabbit, turkey, pork, beef, buffalo, and chicken). Supper was a lighter fare of porridge or bread and milk. Molasses or sweetened water was used if milk wasn’t available.   

courtesy YouTube

Chuck wagon cooks dished up meals of beans, fresh beef, dried fruit, biscuits, bacon, potatoes, eggs, and salt pork to cowboys. Saloons served pork & beans with bacon, pickled eggs, and pretzels. And in those lunch pails children carried to school were cornbread and syrup sandwiches, bread with lard, or bread and bacon. To keep meat from spoiling, pioneers often had a smokehouse on their property where early November they would erect a low-burning fire and hang meats to cure. (This process took several weeks and once complete, the meat kept well into the following summer.) Vegetables were canned and fruits were dried.

Cooking and storing food to last throughout the year wasn’t easy. As much as I adore the wild west, I prefer cooking on my electric stove and gas grill and having a refrigerator to keep fruits and vegetables from spoiling.   

Favoring the Farmer

 

Sometimes, when I'm writing a book, I just get so connected to the characters I wish I could pack up live in their town.

That happened (again!) when I was writing my recent release, Favoring the Farmer, that takes place in the fictional town of Summer Creek.

It's a tiny town, but growing. A goat named Ethel meanders the streets. The gas station is the local hot spot for gossip and snacks. And there's only one place to eat out for dinner, but they do have great wood-fired pizza and their signature dessert is brookies, so it can't be all bad. 

Summer Creek is one of those towns where everyone feels welcome, like they'd just found their way home. 

Which is why I enjoy writing books in that series so much. 

He’s a weary farmer. 

She’s a city designer with a rebellious teen in tow. 

Summer Creek might just be the fresh start they need.

Farmer Dane Becker feels like life has left him behind. With his father gone and the woman he loved like a grandmother now laid to rest, Dane is exhausted, lonely, and convinced his best days are buried in the middle of his wheat field. Then one evening, he spots lights in the house next door. His investigation ends with a mop-wielding beauty mistaking him for a burglar—while unexpectedly stealing his heart.

Bellamy Larken is used to designing one-of-a-kind apparel for Hollywood’s elite, not wielding cleaning supplies against handsome strangers. But when her younger sister Elise’s rebellion spirals out of control, Bellamy—as her guardian—knows something has to change. Inheriting her late aunt’s home in Summer Creek, Oregon, feels like the perfect fresh start. Hastily packing without warning her sister, she drags Elise from the city to small-town life, hoping the quiet community will give them both a chance to heal.

But the house is stuck in a disco-era time warp, Bellamy feels overwhelmed, and the rugged farmer next door is equal parts frustrating and irresistible. Dane insists he doesn’t need anyone, yet Bellamy’s determined heart might be exactly what he can’t live without.

Filled with small-town charm, laugh-out-loud moments, and a tender romance that blossoms under beautiful Oregon skies, Favoring the Farmer is a sweet and hopeful love story about finding where you truly belong.

USA Today bestselling author Shanna Hatfield grew up on a farm where her childhood brimmed with sunshine, hay fever, and an ongoing supply of learning experiences.

Today, Shanna draws on her rural roots to create sweet and wholesome romances brimming with hope, humor, quirky characters, realistic heroes, and women of strength.

When this award-winning author isn’t writing or baking, Shanna cherishes time at home in the Pacific Northwest with her beloved husband, affectionately known as Captain Cavedweller.

 

Origin of the Typewriter

By Kristy McCaffrey

Henry Mill, an English inventor, patented the first typewriter in 1714, although he described it as a “Machine for Transcribing Letters.” At the start of the 19^th century, an Italian inventor named Pellegrino Turri also created a mechanical typing machine, along with carbon paper to provide the ink. These early machines were largely developed to enable the blind to write.

The first commercially successful typewriter didn’t come along until 1874, when E. Remington and Sons began producing models with the popular QWERTY keyboard layout, based on a prototype created by American inventors Christopher Latham Sholes, Carlos Glidden, and Samuel W. Soule.

The success of this last invention was twofold. First, the text could be seen as it was typed. Earlier writing machines had the paper hidden inside, making it difficult to follow the output. The second important feature was the keys could be used at speed without jamming. The QWERTY keyboard design was to avoid keys clashing together when typing combinations of letters frequently found together in common English words.

* * * * *

Don't miss THE NIGHTHAWK!

Arizona Territory
September 1899

Sophie Ryan’s dream of working for a newspaper has come true. Accompanied by her cousin, Lucas Blackmore, a newly appointed U.S. Deputy Marshal, she arrives in Jerome, one of the richest mining towns in America. And one of the most remote. Although she’s been hired to report for the Jerome Mining News on education and cultural issues, she soon finds herself immersed in something more serious when she finds an enigmatic injured man in the Black Hills claiming to be an ornithologist.

U.S. Deputy Marshal Benton McKay is undercover tracking the notorious train robbing Weaver gang, and the trail ends in Jerome. When he’s injured in the Black Hills and found by a determined and beautiful young woman, he must gain her trust to keep his identity a secret. But keeping her out of trouble proves a challenge, especially with her cousin assigned to assist him. As they track down the band of outlaws, another agenda emerges—the renegades are searching for lost gold believed to have been left behind by the Spanish Conquistadors. And Sophie Ryan is determined to report on it.

The Nighthawk is a fast-paced romantic adventure filled with humor, treasure hunting, a tenacious heroine, and a hero harboring a secret. It has light steam, a happily-for-now ending, and can be read as a standalone.

Sophie is the daughter of Logan and Claire from THE DOVE.

Available in digital and paperback. Find more info here.

Read an excerpt

Sophie pulled free. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I could ask you the same, but I don’t have time.”

McKay went to the barn door as Bromley’s light disappeared around the house. He stepped into the storm, searching the ground for Xander’s path. It became futile quickly, the ground a muddy slop. And he couldn’t keep lurking around the Bromley house. The man might see him.

When he stopped abruptly, Sophie slammed into his backside. He grabbed her shoulders before she fell, her duster slick with rain. “We need to go,” he said.

Grabbing her hand, he dragged her behind him, not stopping until they got to her horse.

“Were you following me?” she demanded.

He ignored her, grabbing her waist and hoisting her onto Roger. He took the horse’s reins from her.

“I can ride on my own,” Sophie said loudly above the din of rain.

McKay walked Roger to his own horse. Once mounted, he continued to hold Roger’s reins, not wanting to lose Sophie in the storm. It was slow going, but he finally got them to the livery where they left the animals for the night. Then McKay took her hand again and led her to his hotel.

“Where are we going?” Her voice was exasperated.

“We need privacy,” he said, taking a back way, entering the Connor Hotel through a rear entrance.

When the way was clear of employees, they went through the kitchen and took the stairs. He unlocked his door but when he stepped inside, Sophie refused.

“I’m not going into your room,” she whispered. She was dripping water all over the carpeted floor.

“Now’s not the time to play hard to get, Sophie.”

He pulled her inside and shut the door.

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James Savage- Early Mariposa Trader by Zina Abbott

 

James D. Savage is one of the more colorful characters in early California Territory and State history. He was bold, brash, and had an ego as big as all outdoors. Considering the usual attitude of the era, he also was one of the strongest advocates for the California Native Americans—in a paternalistic sort of way.

James Savage was born in Illinois around 1817. In 1846, he emigrated from Illinois to California. His wife and young daughter died on the trip. He joined up with John C. Frémont’s battalion and fought in the Mexican-American War.  Shortly after gold was discovered at Sutter’s Mill, and word reached him of gold mining farther south, he established a store in about 1849 on the Merced River near near Yosemite, where the South Fork of the Merced River joined the Merced River.

In addition to the influx of gold miners, Savage found himself living in Yokut territory. Several bands of the Yokuts lived primarily in the eastern San Joaquin Valley and foothill region of the Sierra Nevada Mountains of what is now mostly Tuolumne and Mariposa Counties.  Savage learned to speak several Indian dialects, made peace treaties with the several bands of the Yokuts. He became the first white man to trade with them. He solidified his standing with the Yokuts, not only by giving them presents, but by marrying five native women from different bands. This followed the practice of kinship diplomacy that California Indians had used from time immemorial. Savage cited the bible as justification.

Savage used these fostered relationships to benefit his trade. Although he did some mining himself on the land which included his trading post, he hired Yokuts to mine gold for him. He traded blankets and other goods as wages.

When his Yokut allies found themselves warring against neighboring tribes—particularly the Yosemites (meaning “those who kill), who inhabited the mountain high country—they called on Savage to fight with them. In recognition of his fighting ability, they called him "El Rey Güero," or, "The Blond King." They considered him one of their leaders. Savage chose to live up to the the name given to him by the local Indians. He preferred to be addressed by his honorific and commanded Natives under his control to mine for gold.

James Savage built his first trading post just east of where the South Fork Merced River empties into the Merced River. The following is the historical marker outside the location of James Savage’s first trading post:

Here in 1849, James D Savage established a store built of logs. He engaged in trading and mining and married several squaws for protection and influence in spring of 1850. Fearing Indian depredations, he moved to Mariposa Creek. In December, his store and others were pillaged and burned and a real war began. A volunteer battalion was formed and Savage elected Major. In pursuit of the most warlike tribe their secret hide-out, Yosemite Valley, was discovered and the war brought to a quiet end.

Major Savage was killed by a political opponent August 1852. Several years later one of his widows guided John Hite, a poor prospector, a few miles up this South Fork to discover a gold mine that made him a millionaire.

In the spring of 1850, fearing an attack by the Yosemites, who resented his trading post and influx of gold miners so close to their homeland, Savage moved his trading post to Mariposa Creek, just south of the town of Mariposa. He also established a trading post on the Fresno River, not far from where the State of California set up a reservation for all tribes who then inhabited the gold mining country in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

By late autumn, Savage learned of reports of Indian uprisings. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo had promised that all who owned land prior to the end of the Mexican-American War could retain their property, but white gold miners disregarded those terms as they invaded Native American lands. Hoping to drive whites out of the region, the Indians had begun a campaign of random attacks on white settlements and trading posts in the area.

Upon learning this, Savage appealed to Indians who were gathered nearby to dissuade them from taking up arms against the whites. Not only were the weapons of the whites superior, but the newcomers were now greater in number than the native people. He soon learned many of the native people had lost faith in him along with other whites.

On the night of December 17, 1850, while at this Mariposa store, Savage noticed that many of the Indians who worked for him had disappeared. Realizing this was a sign of something more serious, he mobilized sixteen men to go in pursuit. He hoped to prevent them from joining with a larger group that might be waiting nearby. Savage and his men did not find them, but came across a band of Yokuts who claimed they had recently returned from attacking Savage’s Fresno River trading post. The natives had killed the clerks and plundered the supplies.  

Savage unsuccessfully pleaded with them to cease their attacks. The Indians did allow Savage and his men to leave. The warriors then joined with an even larger attack force of two hundred Native Americans hiding in the surrounding foothills.

Following several other deadly attacks in the area, whites organized a posse at the town of Agua Fria. These attacks led to California’s new governor, Peter Burnett, to form the Mariposa Battalion, which chased the tribes considered responsible into the mountains. The story of how this battalion, with James Savage appointed as its leader, can be found in another blog post by CLICKING HERE.

After peace was restored, Savage re-established new trading posts at Native American reservations. However, the tension between the swarms of gold miners—especially those from the United States—and the native people continued to grow.

Next post: "James D. Savage- Rolling the Barrel of Gold"

 

All this early history on the outskirts of Yosemite took place almost forty years before the time period of my most recent publication, Anthelia Yosemite Bride. This book is now available for sale and on Kindle Unlimited. For the book description and purchase options, please CLICK HERE 

 

 

 

Sources:

https://www.sfgate.com/news/article/A-mountain-man-s-flawed-attempt-at-peace-with-6266847.php

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/17760824/james_d-savage

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Savage

Russell, Carl Parcher, One Hundred Years in Yosemite (Omnibus Edition). Yosemite Association, Yosemite National Park, California: 1992.

Halloween. How Did It Start? by Reggi Allder

 

According to research, Halloween’s roots are with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, a pagan festival celebrated by the ancient Celts. It marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the winter. They believed the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead blurred during this time, and one might contact a dead relative during this period. However, bonfires were lit to ward off any evil spirits who might enter the world at this time.

The name “Halloween” comes from “All Hallows’ Eve,” the evening before the Christian holy days of All Saints’ Day (November 1) and All Souls’ Day (November 2). over time the links between the two celebrations such as bonfires and costumes blended together. 

 In the Mid-1800s, the day was most likely observed by the English, Irish, Scotch and Welsh immigrants living in the US Southern Colonies. Mentions of Halloween appeared in Grahams’ American Monthly Magazine of Literature, Art, and Fashion of 1849.

The Irish sometimes carved vegetables, including turnips. Pumpkin carving appears to be a tradition added by Americans. 

 

      Through the years the celebration has become a secular holiday enjoyed by many regardless of their beliefs. But the costumes, ghost, and bonfires have their roots in Samhain and All Saints’ Day.

 When I carve a pumpkin, I roast the seeds too, yummy. Do you plan on carving a pumpkin this year? Please leave a comment. Thanks! 

 

       Excerpt: Her Country Heart Book one of four Sierra Creek Series Buy Link

     In Sophie’s Ice Cream Parlor, Amy took a quick breath and sat at a table with her friend. “Vanna, if you can help the little kids. You know, choose pumpkins in the patch and Laurie can bring their crafts, we’ll sell them. I’ll have apple and pumpkin pies for sale. Naturally, there will be jars of apple sauce and bottles of apple cider.” She took a quick breath. “If we had a little more time, we could have a haunted house for the middle school kids.” She shrugged. “Maybe next year.” 

“Wow, girl, you’ve certainly thought this out. How about having picnic tables and we serve the kids and parents pieces of pie and apple cider right there on the farm? I’m sure we could borrow the tables from my preschool.”

“Vanna, I love that. I’m getting pumped. I so want this to work. Remember to tweet and share.”

“I will. It’s going to be a success.”

     “Hi, Amy.” A male voice called. 

She looked up expecting to see Wyatt.

Mike Donnelly, the manager of Sierra Creek’s largest grocery store, stood grinning at her.

“Hey, Mike. What are you doing here? You like Sophie’s ice cream?”

“You got me.” He laughed. “I’m sure it’s great, but I buy mine at the grocery store. I just saw you sitting in the window seat and decided to come in and say hi.”

“Sit down,” Vanna said.

“Thanks.” Mike sat down in the chair next to Amy.

Vanna winked at her.

Amy kicked her friend under the table and cleared her throat.

An awkward silence began.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late.” Vanna stood up. “I’ll call you tonight. Got to go. Bye.”

Amy grunted. There was no way she wanted to be alone and try to make “happy talk” with Mike.

His shoulders relaxed and he leaned back in the chair. “So, you all settled in now?”

“Pretty much.” She finished her cola, making a slurping sound with her straw and resisted the inclination to grab an ice cube and pop it into her mouth.

“Uh, how’s your little boy?”

“Fine.”

“He’s a cute kid.”

“Thanks.”

“Sierra Creek’s a good place for a kid to grow up.”

“What? Uh, yeah.”

Not exactly a sparkling conversationalist, but she couldn’t think of anything to say to Mike. Why was it so hard to talk to him when it was so easy to chat with Wyatt?

“Amy.” Mike waved his hand in front of her eyes. “You still here?”

“Oh, sorry.” She forced an imitation smile to lift the corners of her mouth. “You going to get something to eat?” She nodded toward the ice cream counter.

“Can’t. Got to get back to the store. I came in to tell you I’ve been thinking about you.”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” Amy noticed the dimple in Mike’s cheek as he grinned at her.

“Yeah. A lot. Remembering you when we were in high school, I had one hell of a crush on you then.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Never told you, but I watched you back then.”

She felt her cheeks redden. He’d always just seemed one of the guys in her group. Nice enough, but she’d never really paid much attention to him. “High school seems like forever ago.”

“A long time and yesterday, if you know what I mean.” He suddenly looked serious. “Come to dinner with me on Friday night.”

“Uh. I don’t know. I have Bobby to take care of.” She looked down at her hands and hoped he’d understand she was saying no. “I don’t know if I can get a sitter.”

“Come on, Vanna can babysit for you or Sophie can. I’ll ask Sophie right now if you want me to.” He started to stand.

“No. Okay. I’ll go to dinner with you.” She paused. “But I’ll get a sitter.”

“Okay. I’ll pick you up on Friday at seven. See you.”

She tried to smile. “I guess,” she said under her breath, but Mike was already gone from the ice cream shop.

He had rushed out as if he wanted to leave before she could change her mind.

Damn. What have I done? 

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