To underscore a few of the most important points:

1. The $275 bundle with everything is only the top level. Usually there are several versions of the bundle at different price ranges, and we don’t know what those are yet.
2. Money given to PBS is a tax-deductible donation.
3. This is just the first way the things in the bundle are being offered.

It’s true; $275 is indeed a heck of a lot of money. But we might want to look at the big picture . This pledge drive special is a good thing for the Laura Ingalls Wilder community. There is no way it will do anything but generate interest for her. This interest will, in turn, trickle down to the homesites and to groups like the Laura Ingalls Wilder Legacy and Research Association — the only group that promotes Laura-related research and hosts events like LauraPalooza to showcase it, and also hosts this blog. (LIWLRA was actually created because even 75 years after her books began to be published avenues for Laura-related research simply did not exist. Isn’t that crazy?)

Yes, Dean’s DVD is a wonderful production, and we all want to own it. But it’s worth considering that his projects have taken a lot of his personal capital. One can’t expect him not to recoup that if he can. Moreover, we would not have his quality Little House work if he did not care about the product. Registrants of the last LauraPalooza were lucky enough to see the documentary, and to his credit, he edited it afterwards to address the audience’s concerns. He didn’t have to invest that time, or that money.

The fact is, after investigating different methods of getting this documentary out there for three years, this was the best avenue he could find. Heck, if it wasn’t for this PBS-related release, it might have been a lot longer before it was released in any form at all. Or, worst of all, it might never have been released for sale to the public; many documentaries aren’t.

If you can’t or won’t be pledging to get it, don’t despair! As time goes on, it’s highly likely you will be able to obtain it another way. The biggest implication of the pledge drive is that the people who are willing to pledge will be the pioneers and will get it first.

The best thing we can do, as ambassadors of Laura, is to spread the word about the pledge drive. Contact our local stations to make sure they run it, whether we plan on pledging or not. Pledge if we can. And if we can’t, we can wait patiently until the DVD is ready for individual sale. I haven’t been told that will happen, but I’m comfortable in saying that it seems like something that would logically follow.

I know this is disappointing to some, especially in these economic times. Perhaps Laura herself said it best. Remember the sage/onion fight in the beginning of The Long Winter? Laura first retold that story in The Missouri Ruralist. After relating how in the end how Pa didn’t even get the goose, she said:

“This little happening has helped me to be properly thankful even tho at times the seasoning of my blessings has not been just such as I would have chosen.”

It usually starts quite innocently enough. A comment, a mention in an article, a question from someone else — and the next thing you know, I’m off on a quest.  A mission to find out some obscure Wilderism. But truth be told, it’s what I love best about Wilder research. I’m not one to devote huge amounts of time to a given topic and then stay on that topic to complete the research it requires; no, my “research” is done in fits and spurts and is typically quite random. A question comes to mind and I search until I either answer it to my satisfaction or finally decide the answer simply can’t be found.

Last night is a perfect example. It began with a comment from a friend. “Hey, we were looking up information on Maine coon cats as we thought one of our cats has very similar markings, and found a Little House reference we were sure you’d be interested in.”

The reference? Apparently, one particular Maine coon cat is documented in literature in 1861. Its name? Captain Jenks of the Horse Marines.

“Interesting,” thought I. But instead of leaving it at that as most sane people would do, I spent the next hour researching both the cat and the song attempting to figure out the relationship. I studied the lyrics carefully — what could this song possibly have to do with a cat? Absolutely nothing. But everything I found seemed to indicate that the song was written in 1868 by William Lingard.

Such a specific name surely could not be a coincidence. And the cat was documented seven years before the song was written. Could Lingard have known the cat owner, I wondered?

Further research turned up more information. The song was actually published earlier than 1868 — the earliest known date, in fact, is 1862, by T. Maclagan, and it was reportedly a popular song during the Civil War.

But the cat… 1861… ??  We’re still looking at a cat named “Captain Jenks of the Horse Marines” in 1861, when the song “Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines” wasn’t written until 1862. Or was it? Apparently Maclagan was a popular music hall performer in England in his time.

I came to the final conclusion — final unless more evidence is turned up, that is, for this is actually just a theory — that Maclagan was already performing and popularizing the song before it was published, and that the cat was therefore named after the song.

Mrs. Jinks of Madison Square — the verse Laura sings back to Pa — was not added until 1868, however.

If you don’t know the tune, listen to the chorus here:

Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines

Now how many of you will have Captain Jinks running through your head the rest of the day? I know I will.

I was wondering if you have any idea what sickness Ma suffered, during the time they were at Burr Oak, I think it was? It is written about in the book “Old Town in the Green Groves” (which I know wasn’t written by Laura, but I know that it did include factual events). I think I also read about it somewhere else, maybe in some book which was describing the events from that time. It had been raining quite a bit, and the creek was quite high. Laura went out to call to the neighbors to get a doctor for Ma, at Pa’s request, (who forgot about the water),and was nearly washed away by the water. I can’t remember the exact details, but that is the time I am talking about. I don’t know if there’s enough information on it to know what sickness she had, or not…

~Cadie Purdy

Cadie, the situation you describe above actually occurred in Walnut Grove, before the family moved to Burr Oak. Laura writes of it in her unpublished manuscript, Pioneer Girl, and in the manuscript for On the Banks of Plum Creek, and sets the time period as being the spring of 1876. “Ma was taken desperately sick,” Laura writes, having terrible pains in her side. One morning the pains were so severe that forgetting that the creek was high, Pa told Laura to run and tell Mr. Nelson to go to town and telegraph for the nearest doctor, who was forty miles away.

Laura did as Pa said, but when she came to the creek, she was afraid to go in because the water was so high that the footbridge was out in the middle of the creek. “…But Pa had told me to go and Ma was awfully sick, so in I waded,” writes Laura. Fortunately, Mr. Nelson saw her while in only to her knees and yelled at her to go back. Laura called out her message to him, and the doctor came the next day. Pa had to bring him (and some women from town who came to help) across the creek in his boat!

The doctor diagnosed Ma with liver problems and gave her some medicine. He returned a second time, and “after awhile Ma got well” and her skin lost its yellow color.

Great Auk

Near the beginning of The Long Winter the Ingalls family discover a strange marine bird. It’s nearly frozen and they nurse it back to life, but nothing they have to feed it seems to go down. They said the bird looked like the image in Pa’s Big Green Animal Book of the Great Auk, only a miniature version.

The South Dakota birders think it was probably an Ancient Murrelet or a less likely a Dovekie. Both have occasionally been found far inland, but they don’t live long because they eat tiny marine invertebrates that aren’t found in fresh water. The Great Auk has long been extinct, but you can look for an Ancient Murrelet or a Dovekie next time you go to the ocean or in a natural science museum.

As it is my first post here I want to talk about one of my current, if not new, projects. During her lifetime, Laura Ingalls Wilder responded to every fan letter she received, until the last 6 months of her life. She saved the fan letters and all are carefully preserved. Ironically, her responses were scattered to the four winds and while some have come safely to rest in museums, archives, and libraries across the country, others currently reside in scrapbooks, the backs of drawers, in musty files, and in old shoe boxes tied up with ribbon and carefully put away. As interest in Laura continues to grow, now is the time to bring those letters to light.

Please help make sure those letters aren’t lost forever. In conjunction with the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum in Walnut Grove, Minnesota, I’m seeking photocopies of Laura letters. These would be scholarly study copies only and will be deposited in the newly built archive room at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum in Walnut Grove, Minnesota.

I’m also seeking photos of any of the Wilder museum sites pre-1985 or photos of any special local Wilder events, such as gingerbread parties that you might have attended. Copies are accepted by photocopy, photography or scan sent by e-mail. Thank-you for your help and please help to spread the word.

I’ve been tracking letters from people and in archives across the country. My campaign has brought to light several in libraries across the country, such as the Cedar Rapids (Iowa) Public Library and the Grand Forks (Nebraska) Public library. Individuals from Iowa City to California have also contributed letters to the collection. The letters have provided information about things ranging from Wilder’s trip back to Pepin in 1890 to a description to how a famous 1930 of Wilder was taken to a hesitation on Wilder’s part to receive more mail during her husband’s illness eventually leading to his death in Oct. 1949. These letters have other information to share. Please help us find it. I have now collected 21 letters and deposited them with the Walnut Grove archive. If you know of any letter or would be willing to post a flyer or know of a place for free publicity, since this is my own private project, please let me know.

Send photocopies to:
Sarah Uthoff
Trundlebed Tales
P.O. Box 111
Solon IA 52333
info@trundlebedtales.com

Sarah S. Uthoff

(On a side note, do you ever wonder what impact you may have in the future, regardless of how insignificant your life may seem today? I was just thinking about Mary Power, who was just an average person leading an average life, who just happened to be friends with someone who would make her known and beloved to millions of readers worldwide after her death… and 80 years later, is still impacting the world as people feed the hungry in order to obtain information about her…  now that’s something to marvel at! Don’t you think she’d be pleased (not to mention astonished!)?)

The original piece, written by Judith Thurman, focuses on material most of us already know: Rose was an early Libertarian who influenced the early conservative movement; Rose heavily edited the Little House books before they went to print; the relationship between Rose and Laura was both tense and symbiotic; and Rose led well-traveled, cosmopolitan life. Thurman cites William Holtz’s Ghost in the Little House as “ the work of a fastidious stylist, and, in its way, a minor masterpiece of insight and research.”

She also calls the rest of the available scholarly research about the Wilders “pedestrian,” scoffs at the themes of self-reliance in the books, applauds herself for being liberal, and pooh-poohs the idea and practice of rugged individualism.

For someone who’s merely recycling others’ research, Thurman is remarkably arrogant in her assumptions about the Midwest and Wilder enthusiasts.

For Thurman does not offer any new information about Rose and Laura. The only thing this article does is to bring this story to an elite East Coast literary audience, in effect raising the issue of Rose’s influence on national politics to national debate. In that, she has succeeded.

Just in the last two days, response to the Thurman piece has run the gamut from enthusiastic praise to righteous fury, and everything in between. The conservative take comes from a blog called “Reason” and from “Right Wing News.” Pastor Chris Brauns chooses to discuss Christian doctrine in the books in his blog. And Mediaite.com weighs in with a gush about the fact that the Wilder women are getting recognition at all.

But my favorite take on the subject comes from Kate Harding at Salon.com. As a newcomer to understanding the enthusiasm for the Wilder women, Harding writes an enthusiastic piece praising Rose Wilder Lane, and calling for a general interest biography of her story. She writes: ”Rose Wilder Lane, please come back from the dead and be my BFF.”

My sentiments exactly, Kate.

The interviewer made me think about Laura again, in the context of her work as a farm activist and a farm woman.  Many of you reading probably know that Laura was well into her sixties before she began writing the Little House books, but she also wrote for numerous farming publications in the years preceding that work, most notably Missouri Ruralist. She started out by contributing to the newspaper as other farm women did, sending in notes and letters about her own farm work and expertise, particularly with poultry. As her audience grew, so did her role at the paper, and eventually, Laura wrote a regular column called “As a Farm Woman Thinks.”

Statistics of the period show us that farm women were as literate as city women, and that they were more literate than the male farmers with whom they were partnered. It’s apparent from all of their writing at this time that farm women truly knew their businesses, and as part of their roles, kept up with farming politics, methods and progress. The image that appears over and over again in all their writings is that of man and woman, partnered, sitting over the kitchen table to read and discuss the news, or of the farm woman reading out loud after dinner. Mass media was essential to successful farming, as was literacy.

Laura raised a number of issues in her columns, in a variety of contexts, but always advocating for farm living and farm life. She advocated investing in education for farm youth; actively participating in farming organizations; and investing in maternal health in numerous fashions. Laura also discussed methods of earning additional income on the farm, and offered a solid voice of reason, from the feminine perspective, for other farming women in the area.

Of course, her wisdom shines on in her works of fiction, also. Ma’s relentless pursuit of education for her daughters, the family’s participation in community activities when they were able, and the pursuit of additional work–sewing, teaching, boarding–by the women in the family to contribute to the family’s circumstances all underscore the centrality and importance of women in the community, family, and nation.

Is it any wonder we respect her so much?

In early 1937, Rose Wilder Lane was collecting information from her father for her book Free Land, which was published in 1938. In a letter dated March 20, 1937, Almanzo wrote Rose the story of how he, his brother Royal, and sister Eliza Jane journeyed from Minnesota to Dakota Territory to file on their homestead claims. In the story he comments, “After we past Sioux Falls about 10 miles, one of the horses took the colic and died…” (spelling preserved)

Laura wrote another letter to Rose the same day filling in some of the details for her that Almanzo had not included in his letter but she thought would be of help to her daughter.

She explained that the horses were fed their noon oats, and then given water a few miles down the road when they came to a house with a pump. They drove on about five miles, and then “the horse was taken sick and died in a few minutes. Driving hard on dry oats, getting too hot and then drinking cold water and swelling ‘em up. Manly has always blamed E.J. because she kept urging him to drive faster.”

Laura later adds, “As for getting Manly to tell what some one said — Have you heard of oyesters. It is long ago. But you can imagine what E.J. would say to make him drive faster.” (spelling preserved)

Thus Sandra’s nickname for Almanzo… the oyster.

So… while we’re here, anyone want to offer up a suggestion as to just what E.J. would say to make him drive faster?