About the diary writer
- Barbara McDowell Whitt
- Kansas City, Missouri, Alexandria, Virginia, United States
- ~ About: A 1961-65 Park College Diary ~ As a high school girl and then a college coed in the first half of the 1960s, I wrote nightly entries on the pages of one-year diaries. In January 2010 I began transcribing the entries into a blog and gave each one a title. I grew up on three farms within 30 miles of Iowa City and the University of Iowa with its Iowa Writers' Workshop. As the oldest of four daughters, in my diaries I sometimes referred to my sisters as "the kids" or "the girls." We helped our parents, but we also had good, wholesome fun - a characteristic I took with me to Park. Park is 300 miles southwest of West Chester, Iowa, in Parkville, Missouri, on the Missouri River 10 miles northwest of Kansas City, Missouri, and across the river from Kansas City, Kansas. In 2000 Park College became Park University. Today Park's flagship campus is in Parkville and there are an additional 41 campus centers across the nation. Park was one of the first educational institutions in the United States to offer online learning. My last post was on May 22, 2018. I may be followed on Twitter @BarbaraMcDWhitt.
The Dodge Has 96,000 Miles on the Odometer - Saturday, July 29, 1961
It's very hot again. We baled straw out at Grandma's and got the whole field finished up and in the barn. The very last load going up dropped out of the fork just before it went into the barn. It seems like I always know when a load is going to fall. Coming home (Daddy was again on the tractor, so I was driving the Dodge), the mileage changed to 96,000. And it lacked only 0.3 of a mile changing over in the exact same place it changed to 95,000 (see June 17). I re-sewed the tops of my curtains. Now they're loose enough to slide on the rods.
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2 comments:
We were out at Drew's yesterday and he was saying that the barn (that will soon be theirs) has a hay loft full of hay. It brought back memories of my uncle's and your grandfather's hay loft--the smell, the heat, the dust, the light filtering through, the tunnels and hidden places. Ah summer...
Yes, Ron, as far as I am concerned, I know I have lived when I can still remember fondly the same things you recalled about a hay mow (rhymes with cow) as we called the top floor of our two barns.
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