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Nancy Murdock It’s seven-thirty A.M., Day four of a four-day weekend. Sun streams onto the bed – A steady stream of traffic sings along – Labor Day – no work today. I think of possibilities: Finish Colleen’s quilt, Send out the Murdock Muse, Make a stir-fry dinner, Dust my paintings, Paint a new one, Re-read quilting mags. All great ideas – I pick up my romance novel And sigh with relief. -- September 1, 2008 |
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Jane McCauley July 18, 2008 - It was nice having a visit from you. Hope you got home safely. Our driveway is a tricky one to back out of and next time you might like to turn around first. Did you get my e-mails about Joshua Murdock and the sampler that the H.S. got from a Murdock? I e-mailed Eugene but didn't hear back from him. Hope he got it all right as I attached the 25 year ago column. If you want some interesting reading go into http://www.OntheCommon.com which is sponsored by the Worcester Telegram and Gazette. You can find it under search...go into Hubbardston and all messages. It is a blog and there is so much going on about the Prop. 2 1/2 right now. The gig vote is on July 29...wonder what will happen. Have a good summer. |
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Gene Murdock July 14: Recently I was reminded of the iceman that used to come to our house. We did not have an electric refrigerator until sometime around 1945, and even then we kept the old ice box for a while as a back-up cold storage. The iceman would come regularly and deliver blocks of ice cut to fit our needs and the space in the ice box. We had a card about 12 inches square that had various numbers printed in large block lettering around the margin - probably 5, 10, 15, 20, etc. The card would be put in the window with the number at the top showing how many pounds of ice we needed that trip, so he could cut it without having to come up to the door to ask. Back in Gardner, before 1940, I remember vividly his visits. He hauled a huge block of ice to the tailgate of his truck, cut it with a few well aimed shots of his ice-pick fork, then picked it with the magic ice tongs, put it up on his shoulder where he had a leather shoulder bib, and hauled it off to the house. If he was in a good mood (and we behaved) he would give us chips of ice that flaked off when he did the cutting. The ice used to be cut out of Crystal Lake, which was a storage reservoir for the city drinking water. We lived on one side of the lake, with the land behind us being reservoir property, but I never remember actually seeing the ice being cut. In Hubbardston when we first got there, there was still a huge pile of ice covered with insulating sawdust up by the entrance to Moosehorn Pond. I guess that ice would be as good as any for cooling, but I sure wouldn't want to eat it. The icebox usually had a section on top into which the block of ice was put. The cold air would then circulate down and cool the food. As the ice melted it would run down to a pan in the bottom of the box, and would be emptied periodically as one of the kid's chores. One icebox I remember was shaped round with round shelves inside that rotated like a turntable so you could get at all the food without having to move things around. For lack of an icebox, food could be put in a bag or other container and lowered down the well where the temperature stayed below 50 degrees. I was exploring one of Grandpa Murdock's house lots in East Hubbardston one day, when I strolled down by the river and found a strange canal cut back into the bank making a little pool about six feet square. After some consideration, I figured that it must be a form of icebox, where the food could be set in the shallow pool, and the running water would keep it cool. Nowadays we take for granted the refrigerator with its ice trays, automatic ice maker, and even ice or cold water dispenser. But somehow I feel secure in the fact that if we ever lost power for a long period of time I would know how to keep stored food cool enough to slow down the spoiling considerably. Love, Gene/Dad/Unk/Grampy |
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