Ah, imagination, it's a good thing.

 We had to go up to Shelbina for a funeral a few days ago. My daughters great grandfather passed away.
During the lunch after wards the kids got to hanging out with the Preachers daughter (always trouble right?).
She wanted to show them this old house in town.

So off they went.

Being a small town, and the preachers daughter, we let them go off on their own for a while (15 year old cousin with them, the responsible type).

After they had been gone, well, long enough, I set off to find them.

I met them coming back, at which point this gave them a reason to go back. To show me.

 Once a grand place it is now pretty well to far gone to save.

They convinced themselves that at one time it had been part of the underground railway.

And who knows, maybe it had been.

Older cousins of my wife said they had heard the same when they were kids.

The roof line and brick work are, or were, beautiful.

With porches painted white, at one time it most have been one of the nicer homes in this small town.

 This doorway under a side porch was where they decide the slaves at one time hid.

From this view you can almost imagine how nice it once was.

In contrast, this house completely remodeled and kept up is only a few doors away.

I love small town fairs - NEMO Old Thrashers weekend.

 Well Saturday we got up to farm town and attended once again the Old Thrashers event.

Chance to watch and see how the old equipment was used.

This truck seperated the corn from the cob. I am sure there is a name for that process but I didn't catch it.

 Ah Shucks!

 Another view of the truck.
It doesn't look like it could still run but it does.

 Another old steam tractor.

 This machine seperated the cobs from the stalk.

And still worked.

This machine attached to a very large steam tractor thrashed oats.















And unlike festivals in larger towns where it is okay to sell Vietnamese Kabob's (among other non-related things) at Scottish themed Festivals, evey thing seemed to have a purpose with what was being celebrated; old farm life.

 Making new friends.

 Very young.

 "This town ain't big enough for the three of us philgrim."

 How to make apple cider

 Lots of old tools.

 And some ideas I had never seen before (which is not unusual.)

 My favorite parts are the kids rides that are home-made and tractor driven.

 All tractor powered.

 And made with stuff from around the town.

Pulled by tractor, made out of barrels and on the go all day.

It is also fun to see the same people year after year doing these rides again.

 And of course there are lots of other things going on.

 Rope making.

What a great day!

Outdoor, olde tyme kind of weekends.

 A couple of weeks ago we got to Eckert's to pick apples.

 A warm late summer day made for good pickin'.


Here, mom and daughter.

 Here daughter and friend.

 On the ride back.

 Later in the day, over to grandma's house to pick tomatoes.

 Fruitful harvest.

 Then out to sell them.
So far, she has made over $200.00 at her little stand.

 Then the next weekend, up to the farm.
Here daughter is trying to get her great-grandad to show her a picture of his first tractor.

 Found one real close.

 Then he said, "Go into the kitchen and get that toy one. It was just like that."

Then outside with uncle to see the real deal.

 "What! You're going to let her drive that Gazillion dollar piece of equipment?"

 She's driving that Gazillion dollar piece of equipment.

 Later a ride on something smaller.

 This past Saturday we headed back up to the farm country for the Shelby County Old Thrashers festival.

Some rebuilt old trucks.

 And cars.

 Tractors her size.

 And hundreds of others. In all sizes and colors and makes.

 I had never heard of this brand.

 Don't know what this kind was used for, but there were two.

 Some not rebuilt trucks that still ran.

 Lots of little stuff that did things to other stuff.

 All the kids rides were run off of tractor power.

The old steam engine was running.

 Playing piano in the old village school.

 This would have been where her grade level would have sat.

The school was used into the early 70's.

 Real horse power at work.

 The old school and the old African-American church.

 Making new friends.

 Country kind of rides.

 That same evening we also went to a Hangar Dance at our local branch of the Commemorative Air Force to raise money to keep the old planes flying.

 A couple of trainers flew up from Florida.

 Daughter exploring her favorite.

 National Anthem before the dance started.

 Most of the money goes to keeping this old war bird flying.
WWII era bomber.

Daughter got this one as we were leaving.