I had worked in the electrical trade in Glasgow, Montana for four years when work slowed down to the point that I needed to go elsewhere for a job.

We had purchased a new car on payments, and those payments had to be made.  We had a little boy to raise, and for some reason he was always eating.

I went 160 miles west to Havre, Montana to find work and I found it.  On July 4^th I went back to Glasgow to move my family and trailer home to Havre.  I hitched the new Ford to the trailer and moved everything in one trip.

We got a late start, so when evening came we pulled over alongside the road outside of Malta, Montana.  I remember it was the 4^th of July, because during the night someone drove by and threw out a fire cracker that landed by the trailer.  When it went off it woke up the baby.  I heard the car drive away with the occupants laughing.  We survived.

After thirteen years in Havre it was time to move again.  By that time our family had grown to four children.  I found work within the week in Spokane, Washington.  This time it took six trips and an entire year to make the move.

Besides children we had horses, goats, chickens and a second larger mobile home (total of two mobile homes), a structure that connected the two living quarters, my mother in law, her mobile home (that makes three mobile homes), her car, our car, a pick-up, a trailer tower, the original new car we had purchased, a spare parts car for that one, and a horse trailer.

Setting up all of our trailers and etcetera on unimproved land took some time and lots of work.  Nine years later we moved again onto another unimproved land location.  By that time the only items from the previous move we didn’t have were the original car, the parts car and the horse trailer.  Of course we had acquired a number of outbuildings that we didn’t want to leave behind.  And the older children now had their vehicles.

In the forty-three years since our move to Spokane we have built a house on unimproved land, started our own business, and acquired and/or built more outbuildings.  And we have purchased our second new car.

I have now turned the business over to my sons.

The electrical trade has done a fine job of supporting us and our family.  I have informed my family that if and when my wife and I died, and they want to move, they should hire a bull dozer and push everything down into the swamp and cover it over.

Let future generations say; “What happened here?”

One summer I was working with a High School boy.  He was sharp and quick witted, but only worked with us during the summer while school was out.

One day some carpenters were razzing us about not yet having the power on in the building.  My apprentice said; “You better treat us nice, or we can leave and leave you without any power at all.  You will have to go find a piece of wire somewhere and see if there is any electricity left in it.  You could probably use that to run your saw.”

I suggested that they get a bucket and drain the electricity into it in order to carry it into the building for use.  Later on I found that to be a standard joke.  If someone says they have been shocked by wire that was (supposed to be) de-energized, you tell them it was probably because there was a little power left in the wire.

Another job I was sent to work on was on a house where people of both genders lived, but where none of them were married.  This was in the ‘60s and such things just weren’t done in those days.

The housekeeper was a lady that was employed as a school teacher during the day, but was the live-in house keeper by night.  At one point one of the men in the house told me as he was leaving, that the housekeeper would be over about 4 P.M.  This caused me some nervousness because I wasn’t sure what type of person she would be.  In any case I wanted to be out of there before 4 P.M.

I was standing on a ladder installing an outside fixture and working as rapidly (and nervously) as I knew how.  I was in such a hurry that my pliers slipped and banged me on my front teeth.  It gave me a fat lip.

When I got done I went around the house picking up scraps of wire casing and other leavings, trying to clean up after myself as quickly as possible.

I was back by the bedrooms, bent over, picking up some scrap.  When I straightened up there was someone standing and looking at me, not saying a word.  I yelled out loud before I realized I was looking at a full-length mirror on one of the bedroom doors.

It took ten years off of my life.

However, I think it might have put a charge in my bucket.

Have you ever noticed how much your life is affected by what your nose knows?  Everyday aromas, when detected in the correct amount and location, bring back good memories and are able to enliven and beautify your day.

There are the smells associated with flowers after a rain, early morning perfumes, food, fresh mown hay, rain on dust, etc.

And then there are the other kinds.

Walk past a slaughter house or a rendering plant or a pig farm…on a hot day.  Or take a stroll past a stockyard where the animals are walking around knee deep in … effluent product.  Or dig a conduit trench across a stockyard.

One day I was called upon to work on a meat packing plant.  They had a smoke house that needed to be wired.  The wood used for smoking the meat has a nice aroma.  But it wasn’t enough to completely overcome the other smells associated with a meat packing plant, slaughter house and rendering plant.

For making bologna, wieners and sausage, at that time, they would use cleaned animal gut.  Getting the gut from the butchered animal to a cleaned condition produced a not so agreeable odor.

In the slaughtering house there was a separate room with an open blood pit.  As animals were slaughtered the blood would pour into the open pit.  Every so often someone would turn on the steam to cook the blood into a curd.  When I had to walk around that pit I was very careful not to slip or drop any tools into it.

There was also a rendering plant on the grounds.  At the rendering plant they took what was left of the animals and crushed the pieces, bones and all, into a fertilizer.

I noticed they did not place these buildings in close proximity to one another.  There was a good reason for that decision.

Somehow I was always tasked with the jobs in this area.  I guess they thought a “farm boy” could take the odors in stride.

At that particular plant I noticed that there were a large number of Native Americans employed there.  I was impressed with anyone that could work in those conditions, day after day, summer and winter.

A few times my boss’s son was sent to work with me at this plant.  His mother would complain that, for some reason, he wouldn’t eat wieners anymore.

I never invited her to accompany us to that job site.