Ridin’ the Grub Line
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I was 9 years old when we moved to land north of Gildford. There were no buildings on the place, so we built them. We put up the studs for a wall, then covered both the inside and outside with boards. Before the roof was added we stirred up a sort of Adobe mix. Each wall section was filled with this filler made of mud and straw so it was warm in winter and cool in summer. The inside walls were covered with that blue building paper and painted with Kalsomine, a tinted whitewash. Maybe that's when I decided I didn't like anything blue except the Montana skies. The pasture land bordered the Milk River, and we were near the Canadian border.
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About the Book
Nineteen Twenty-four. Almost a century ago. What was it like on a dryland farm ranch? In this book, the author tells all about it from the view of someone who lived and survived it. Many didn’t, and few are still living. My dad was a homesteader equivalent to today’s custom combiners.
About the Author
The author was born in 1924. Not too many are still around at her age. She started her life on a farm in Eastern Montana, and the first years were good—Then her mother died, the Wall Street Crash, and the dirty thirties came along. This story is being told by this Grandmother and Great Grandmother for her descendants and anyone who is interested in the day to day living at that time. It shares how her faith has carried her through the years.