country poetry & more

Hoeing cotton:
Think I was 5 at the time, and for some reason I always wanted to go to the field with Daddy. May have been the kick in head by the horse. I remember there wasn't much to hoe as there were no goat heads or Johnson grass. There were only some gypsum looking weeds and not many of those. Daddy decided if I was going to be there anyway I could hoe one row while he took two. Seems like he got 10 cents an hour and I got 5, but don't think that could have been right as that would have been a dollar a day and don't think he made that much until ‘38 or ‘39.Don't think I did that much so no danger of child labor laws. Ha.


Killing hogs:
The people who had hogs would kill them for meat when the first cold snap moved in. When we had hogs, that was usually the only meat we had and when it was gone sometimes we would have a treat on Sunday and have fried chicken. Anyway back to the hogs. After killing them they would put them in scalding water and then scrape the hair from the skin. That was usually my job and it wasn't easy; Daddy would say you’re not scraping hard enough. One fall there at Crowell's we not only had a hog but also a calf. Daddy killed the calf, I think, by hitting it in the head with an ax. Sounds gruesome but guess you gotta do what you gotta do. Anyway we were eating high on the hog, so to speak, that fall. Daddy would rub the meat with sugar-cure, work it into the meat to preserve it, as there was no refrigerator, as there was no electricity. Some people had a smokehouse to put their meat in but Daddy hung ours on the north wall of the house, no smoke house.

Killing chickens:
Maybe one Sunday a month we would have fried chicken. Momma would get on the cell phone and called Kentucky F.., oops, got carried away there. The chicken deal was simple, you would go to the hen house Saturday night and get a chicken from the roost, put the chicken under a tub. Sunday morning Momma would get the chicken from under the tub, grab the chicken by the head and wring it until its head came off. Then I believe she would scald the chicken, pluck the feathers and gut it. Seems kinda simple. . .P.S. Don't know how the chickens would do it, but they would jump around some after their head was gone. (really!)Stay tuned..

–Walter Gunn, Son of a Gunn, e-mail memoirs
More at www.cgtrent.com
Cora Gail (Gunn) Trent
cgtrent@att.net

The Design of Horse Milk

Reproduction systems in living things show incredible complexity and a level of design that defies chance explanation. Not only do the processes of reproduction show design characteristics, but frequently there are substances involved that have unique and very specific properties unique to the animal involved. The milk of the horse is an example of a unique substance.

The foal has a unique problem in its development. The makeup of the placenta is such that antibiotics cannot be passed from the mare to the foal during gestation. Without these antibodies the foal is very susceptible to harmful bacteria. The way the foal gets these necessary antibodies is from a substance known as colostrums which the foal receives from the mother’s milk.

The mare’s milk is an incredibly designed and almost magical substance. The milk has incredible nutritional value being high in energy, proteins, minerals and vitamins. It also contains a laxative which helps the intestinal tract of the horse get off to a good start. The most unique thing the foal gets from drinking the milk is colostrum, which contains all the antibodies the foal needs to take him to the time his own immune system has developed which is two to four months. The antibodies in the milk are immunoglobulins with the main antibody being immunoglobulin G. If the foal gets 500 cc of colostrum it will be protected, but there is a limited time to do that. Colostrum is available in the mare’s udder for a maximum of three days. During the first hours of a foals’ life colostrum will be concentrated at the end of the mare’s teats so the foal is given a full compliment of antibodies as early as possible. Most foals get over 1000 cc of colostrums before the mare’s milk contains just normal milk.

The uniqueness of each reproductive system argues against chance explanations based on evolutionary theories. We would suggest that design features and substances like colostrums are the result of planning by the Creator.

—Data Source: Western Horseman Magazine, March, 1996, pages 26-28

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, May/June, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Monarch Migration—The Changing Compass

Several times in previous Dandy Designs sections of this journal, we have talked about the migration of various kinds of life. We have seen that birds, turtles, whales, eels, caribou, and even some insects accomplish incredible migrations over great distances. One of the more interesting migratory patterns is that of the monarch butterfly, which moves from a 40-mile long stretch of mountains just west of Mexico City to the Great Lakes and back every year. Lincoln Brower, who is a leading expert on the monarch, has been studying the route of the monarch and the navigation techniques they must use to make their incredible journeys.

Browser has been able to show that most of the monarchs from Mexico make their way from Mexico to Texas and Louisiana where they lay their eggs and die. The first generation butterflies that hatch from these eggs reach the Great Lakes where they reproduce and die. Their offspring head east to the Appalachians and the East Coast and lay their eggs and die. Their offspring head south to the Gulf Coast, veer west and go back to Mexico, so it is the fourth generation of monarchs that complete the trip.

Notice that the monarch has made a giant circle as a group, with each generation flying in a place it has never been before. The evidence is that the navigation system that allows this is magnetically oriented. When the first group of monarchs begins the journey, the butterflies’ magnetic compass, which seems to be crystals of magnetic material in their bodies, is pointed north. Every day, it turns about one degree clockwise so that, by the time the butterflies get to Texas or Louisiana, it is pointing northeast. Their offspring follow this northeast compass to the Great Lakes, but the compass they pass onto their offspring is set on east!

When the temperatures begin to cool and days get shorter, the compass is set on southeast, then south, and then southwest until they arrive back in Mexico. The one question Brower cannot answer is, “what sets the compass?” Is it temperature, length of day, or a genetic predisposition? This research has gone on for 40 years and has given us some incredible insights. We would suggest that the complexity of the system implies a design for survival given by God to enable this tropical butterfly to grace all of our country.

Data from Discover, May, 1996, pages 89-139

John Clayton, Dandy Designs, March/April, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Horses-
As was told to me by Momma–We lived on Crowell's place and I was 15 months old. She was looking for me and finally saw that I was in the barnyard wandering around amongst the horses. There were several horses, as Daddy did the plowing with them., guess she let out a scream and went running to get me, but before she got there a horse kicked me in the head. Think she said I was out cold for awhile but luckily wasn't hurt that bad. ( a close call )

The tractor:
I was 5 and still at Crowell's place.. Leonard had bought a new F-20 Farmall tractor. For some reason I had a fascination for cars, tractors, etc. Daddy would let me try about anything and I found if I put the crank at the top, and got to the side and put one foot against the tire and pulled the crank with both hands, the tractor would start, as it was new and started easily.I recall I was quite proud of myself being able to start the tractor. Daddy would never say anything but think he got a kick out of things like that.

Momma fright:
Still 5.One day Daddy was going to plow the sudan patch with the new tractor. The tractor was backed into an old shed with just the front of it sticking out of the shed. Daddy had to go and open 2 or 3 gates to get through the barnyard to the sudan patch. While he was opening gates I decided to start the tractor. With one click of the magneto it started. I also decided I would drive it around to the sudan patch while I was at it. Daddy would let me drive sitting in his lap so it wasn't my first experience at driving. Momma heard the tractor start and looked out the window. Her version was: There was Houston opening gates and the front of the tractor sticking out of the shed and about that time the tractor started moving and she couldn't figure out what was going on. As the tractor emerged there I was driving it. I'm sure about then she was near panic. I had to make a couple of turns to make it through the lot but made it ok. Daddy didn't seem to think anything about it, was probably actually proud of me, but probably gave Momma a few gray hairs.

sailing toward that heavenly realm.

Misreading the Saguaro

One of the more interesting and misunderstood plants in the creation is the Saguaro cactus seen in the desert areas of the American Southwest. Recently I was hiking near Phoenix with Dave Strong, a friend who has lived in desert areas most of his life. I made some kind of comment about how primitive the plant appeared to be and found that the opposite is true.

“Do you know how the Saguaro is pollinated?” Dave asked. I assumed that the usual answer of wind, bees, etc., would apply. “The flowers bloom at night,” Dave said, “and the pollinators are bats.” Apparently bats that survive on nectar fly at night and visit the Saguaros, thereby pollinating them. The symbiotic relationship between the flowers of the plants blooming at night and bats being the pollinators is too contrived to be a function of chance.

As we climbed through a forest of Saguaros, Dave pointed to an old plant full of holes which stood nearly 20 feet tall. “That plant’s about 120 years old,” he said. About that time, a bird flew out of one of the holes. The Saguaro is a regular apartment house for all kinds of birds, lizards, desert rodents, and reptiles, as well as a whole entourage of insects. The Saguaro plant itself is remarkably designed for life in dry climates. The inside of the plant is built like an accordion so that there is a huge storage capacity for water when it does rain. The surface is constructed without leaves so little transpiration occurs, conserving water in an efficient way.

To look at a Saguaro, you might feel that you were looking at a primitive liverwort-like plant, but that is a misreading. This is a highly complex and marvelously designed plant that benefits creatures living in the harsh conditions of the desert.

--John Clayton, Dandy Designs, January/February, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net