mr. fender

Much of the west is desert.

And this valley is no exception. Our “rain” comes in canals and ditches beginning with snow in the high mountains.

The project was began about 1900 by a company from New York (we have the New York Canal as a reminder). But it was too big and the company went bust. It took the federal government to get the water to where it could be used.

And all alon those ditches and canals there were weeds and grass. Every blade of grass in a waterway slows it down a tiny bit. Make that a LOT of grass and the water does not run well at all.

In those days the ditch company had a crew of men who had sythes who would go down the ditch bank and cut away that grass. They sure knew how to sharpen those tools.

But there were other places where they could not get the crew to, but needed to have the weeds and grass mowed. And that is where Mr. Fender came in. He was an old man (I was 6 or 8, anyone over 20 was old, I am clueless now) who lived alone in a little house not far from ourhouse.

Mom would send fresh bread and jam to him occasionally. I was the courier. What Mr. Fender had that is unique was work horses. His were not those really huge Percherons, the were smaller, and very good at what they did.

He had a mowing machine that he rode on and the horses pulled. The cycle bar was powered by the wheels, so If you were stopped, there was no cutting. He must ot have had too big a territory to mow, since he was in our neighborhood quite often.

Mom sent over to his house late one summer day. More than likely she sent over a loaf of fresh made bread. He was home and had a big skillet of potatoes on his little wood stove, cooking. His house was small, really small, maybe 10 by 20, though it might have been a tad larger. No bathroom, and possibly no plumbing at all.

He took the bread, replied a bit gruffly, and went out side to look after his horses. I was amazed that he would leave the potatoes cookin while he was gone, but he did.

I was not enamored with horses, but I would watch as he maneurvered and mowed. We were not close friends, I am not sure he knew I existed, but I was so amazed at what he did and could do with those horses.

It seems that he got married eventually and setled into a horseless culture. New small tractors were coming out, changing ariculture.

Mom said he did a good job plowing her garden. Time was not on his side.

I still don’t like horses much, but I miss that time.