By Joann M. Ringelstetter
The ghosts and goblins prowl about
The ghouls and gremlins scream and shout
The spooks come out at half past four,
It’s Halloween once more.
The Jack-o-lanterns gleam and glow,
The ghosts are lined up in a row,
And Frankenstein comes to the door,
It’s Halloween once more.
The zombies rise and begin to stumble,
The mummies stir and start to mumble,
And someone’s tapping on death’s door,
It’s Halloween once more.
Last Sunday, Ruth and I photographed our way to Delafield, Wisconsin. Our mission was to see the illuminated pumpkin display in front of an old church building known as “The Steeple.” The night before, Delafield held their “Grand Pumpkin Illumination” where over 300 pumpkins were illuminated.
These pumpkins were carved by children from the following local elementary schools: Cushing Elementary School, Lake Country School, Prairie Hill Waldorf, and St. Joan of Arc School. We arrived shortly before dusk so that I could snap a few shots in the waning daylight.
Then we waited for darkness to begin to descend over the scene. While we waited, we examined the carved pumpkins more closely. There were some very creative carvings and many of them made us smile.
Some of them showed signs of struggle to carve the face or whatever else the kids were aiming to create. Others looked like the carving had gotten out of control and most of the pumpkin was carved away, leaving us to imagine what they might have been trying to create.
As we photographed this whimsical scene, cars pulled up and people walked past to enjoy the lighted display. And one little girl came with her mother, peering into the sea of pumpkins in an attempt to locate the pumpkin she had carved so that her mother could take a picture of it. It was quite an enjoyable way to end our afternoon of photographing.
When creatures emerge from the Black Lagoon,
And werewolves howl at the moon,
When vampires show up at the door,
It’s Halloween once more.
When people plan for tricks and treats,
And costumed children hit the streets,
And pumpkins shine from shore to shore,
It’s Halloween once more.
Happy Halloween and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
A Barbershop Quartet
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
The most famous television barber was probably Floyd the Barber from The Andy Griffith Show. In the fictional town of Mayberry, Floyd’s Barber Shop was the gathering place where the men would read comics, play checkers, and discuss current events, along with getting a haircut.
On the old Hee Haw television show, Archie Campbell played the barber and he and his customer would often perform a skit called “That’s Good, That’s Bad.” Archie would tell the customer about something that had happened. If the customer said, “Oh, that’s good,” Archie would respond, “No, that’s bad” and then he would explain further. Then the customer would say, “Oh, that’s bad,” and Archie would respond with “No, that’s good!” Archie also told comical fairytales in “spoonerism” form to the people in the barber shop (switching the first letters of words for comic effect). His fairytales such as Beeping Sleauty and Rindercella were always our favorites.
The first barber shops that Joann and I noticed were on our trip to Northern Michigan in 2007. One was a small red building with old Coca Cola ads painted on the sides. The sign proclaimed it to be Mike’s Barber Shop but it was late in the day and the shop was closed.
The next day as we started our homeward trek, we found another small barber shop. This one was permanently closed, but was in a very unique little building. The sign above the door stated that it was the Colonial Barber Shop and this time there was a barber pole attached to the building.
Then in January of 2011, a small article appeared in the local paper that Barber Bill Groff was retiring and selling his one-chair barber shop after 38 years. Joann and I made a note that we should visit the shop before the signage was changed.
In early September we finally made a trip around Madison in the early morning hours and the signage was still there.
It’s a small shop in a residential neighborhood. The outside of the building had been changed from red to blue, but the name remained.
As we drive through towns, I am always on the lookout for barber poles. Many of the barber shops we find now don’t have the traditional pole out front.
Before 1950, there were four manufacturers of barber poles in the United States. By 2010, there was only one company still making barber poles. The company is the William Marvy Company in St. Paul, Minnesota. They have sold over 80,000 since 1950 when they began. They now sell only about 500 poles per year compared to over 5,000 per year in the 1960’s.
As you travel along the backroads and through small towns, look around for the small barber shops and see if you can spot a barber pole out front. They’re getting harder and harder to find.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
The most famous television barber was probably Floyd the Barber from The Andy Griffith Show. In the fictional town of Mayberry, Floyd’s Barber Shop was the gathering place where the men would read comics, play checkers, and discuss current events, along with getting a haircut.
On the old Hee Haw television show, Archie Campbell played the barber and he and his customer would often perform a skit called “That’s Good, That’s Bad.” Archie would tell the customer about something that had happened. If the customer said, “Oh, that’s good,” Archie would respond, “No, that’s bad” and then he would explain further. Then the customer would say, “Oh, that’s bad,” and Archie would respond with “No, that’s good!” Archie also told comical fairytales in “spoonerism” form to the people in the barber shop (switching the first letters of words for comic effect). His fairytales such as Beeping Sleauty and Rindercella were always our favorites.
The first barber shops that Joann and I noticed were on our trip to Northern Michigan in 2007. One was a small red building with old Coca Cola ads painted on the sides. The sign proclaimed it to be Mike’s Barber Shop but it was late in the day and the shop was closed.
The next day as we started our homeward trek, we found another small barber shop. This one was permanently closed, but was in a very unique little building. The sign above the door stated that it was the Colonial Barber Shop and this time there was a barber pole attached to the building.
Then in January of 2011, a small article appeared in the local paper that Barber Bill Groff was retiring and selling his one-chair barber shop after 38 years. Joann and I made a note that we should visit the shop before the signage was changed.
In early September we finally made a trip around Madison in the early morning hours and the signage was still there.
It’s a small shop in a residential neighborhood. The outside of the building had been changed from red to blue, but the name remained.
As we drive through towns, I am always on the lookout for barber poles. Many of the barber shops we find now don’t have the traditional pole out front.
Before 1950, there were four manufacturers of barber poles in the United States. By 2010, there was only one company still making barber poles. The company is the William Marvy Company in St. Paul, Minnesota. They have sold over 80,000 since 1950 when they began. They now sell only about 500 poles per year compared to over 5,000 per year in the 1960’s.
As you travel along the backroads and through small towns, look around for the small barber shops and see if you can spot a barber pole out front. They’re getting harder and harder to find.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Not a Mule
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
A couple weeks ago, Ruth and I left home early Sunday morning and photographed our way over to the Mississippi River, attempting to add some good photos to our autumn collection. Unfortunately, it was extremely sunny and warm on both Sunday and Monday, and the lighting was harsh, which doesn’t make for good photography. But we spent both days photographing anyway.
I think we’ve told you this before, but when we find a subject we really like, we tend to visit it again and again. This day was no different. As the sun came over the horizon Sunday morning, we stopped at one of our favorite churches, the Dayton Corners Church, which was built in 1895.
When we left the church and cemetery, we headed down a country road that began with a “Squiggly Road” sign and some beautiful fall color. The sun was already high in the sky, but we managed to capture some of the intensity of the yellow tree and the red sumac.
Later that afternoon, as we traveled down a narrow gravel road, we came upon a small tile barn. It sat by itself right beside the road, with no other farm buildings to keep it company. As I photographed it, I heard meowing and then two friendly cats circled my legs and the car until we left.
The following morning, we were blessed with some early morning fog, but it disappeared rapidly after the sun came up. Luckily, we had seen some rolling farmland the night before and we hurried back to the ridge to capture the scene as the fog lifted.
Unfortunately, Monday turned out to be even sunnier than Sunday, and we had a hard time coming up with good photographs for most of the day. Around the middle of the afternoon, we were in Richland County and we decided to take Highway 56 and head towards home. We passed an old garage that had some bright orange sumac next to it and some interesting doors, so I pulled the car over on a side road and hiked down the highway to the garage.
This highway has basically no shoulders and there is quite a bit of traffic, so I had to be careful. As vehicles passed me from both directions, I felt that I was a bit too close to the road and almost landed on my butt in the ditch when I tried to step further out of the way.
You’re probably wondering why this story is called, “Not a Mule.” Well, I’m about to tell you. After photographing the garage, we left the side road and returned to Highway 56. A little ways down the road past the garage, we came upon a man driving two horses and a small covered wagon, right there on Highway 56. As I told you, there aren’t any shoulders on this highway, so the line of cars was growing behind this little covered wagon. I would like to have pulled over and taken a picture of this strange and amusing scene, but there was no place to safely stop. So we continued on our way.
When we reached Highway 80, we turned south towards Richland Center and then we saw another strange scene: a man driving what looked like two mules and a shiny metal wagon or cart of some sort.
Fortunately, Highway 80 has very large shoulders, so this man was driving totally on the shoulder, and I had a place to pull over…which I did. I grabbed my camera, fired off a few shots, and then darted across Hwy 80 to see if he would stop and talk to me…which he did. We introduced ourselves and he told me that his name was Bob Erickson. We had a nice conversation, which went something like this:
Joann: “We saw another guy going down Hwy 56 in a covered wagon. What are you guys doing?”
Bob: “We’re camping. We drove our teams from Westby to Arena for Plow and Plant Days. Now we’re driving them back to Westby…Bernice, get up there” (to the mule who was stepping back).
Joann, realizing that the tack on the side of the “mule” said, “Not a Mule.”: “Not a Mule?”
Bob: “I put that on there because people kept calling them mules.”
Joann: “They’re not mules? What are they, then?”
Bob (smirking a bit): “They’re big Texas jackrabbits!... No, they’re donkeys.”
Joann: “What kind of donkeys?”
Bob (laughing): “Big, brown ones. Their names are Bernice and Olga.”
Joann: “What do you call this vehicle…a wagon?”
Bob: “It’s a camper. I have everything I need right here – a bed, my bedroll, and I even have a breakfast nook” (as he pulled up a fold-out shelf in front of him).
Then Bob told me that he and his donkeys would be featured in Mischka Press’s 2012 Donkey Calendar.
I told him I would look for the calendar, thanked him for allowing me to take some pictures of them, and let them be on their way.
That’s the thing we love about shunpiking: you never know what you might see or whom you might meet.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
A couple weeks ago, Ruth and I left home early Sunday morning and photographed our way over to the Mississippi River, attempting to add some good photos to our autumn collection. Unfortunately, it was extremely sunny and warm on both Sunday and Monday, and the lighting was harsh, which doesn’t make for good photography. But we spent both days photographing anyway.
I think we’ve told you this before, but when we find a subject we really like, we tend to visit it again and again. This day was no different. As the sun came over the horizon Sunday morning, we stopped at one of our favorite churches, the Dayton Corners Church, which was built in 1895.
When we left the church and cemetery, we headed down a country road that began with a “Squiggly Road” sign and some beautiful fall color. The sun was already high in the sky, but we managed to capture some of the intensity of the yellow tree and the red sumac.
Later that afternoon, as we traveled down a narrow gravel road, we came upon a small tile barn. It sat by itself right beside the road, with no other farm buildings to keep it company. As I photographed it, I heard meowing and then two friendly cats circled my legs and the car until we left.
The following morning, we were blessed with some early morning fog, but it disappeared rapidly after the sun came up. Luckily, we had seen some rolling farmland the night before and we hurried back to the ridge to capture the scene as the fog lifted.
Unfortunately, Monday turned out to be even sunnier than Sunday, and we had a hard time coming up with good photographs for most of the day. Around the middle of the afternoon, we were in Richland County and we decided to take Highway 56 and head towards home. We passed an old garage that had some bright orange sumac next to it and some interesting doors, so I pulled the car over on a side road and hiked down the highway to the garage.
This highway has basically no shoulders and there is quite a bit of traffic, so I had to be careful. As vehicles passed me from both directions, I felt that I was a bit too close to the road and almost landed on my butt in the ditch when I tried to step further out of the way.
You’re probably wondering why this story is called, “Not a Mule.” Well, I’m about to tell you. After photographing the garage, we left the side road and returned to Highway 56. A little ways down the road past the garage, we came upon a man driving two horses and a small covered wagon, right there on Highway 56. As I told you, there aren’t any shoulders on this highway, so the line of cars was growing behind this little covered wagon. I would like to have pulled over and taken a picture of this strange and amusing scene, but there was no place to safely stop. So we continued on our way.
When we reached Highway 80, we turned south towards Richland Center and then we saw another strange scene: a man driving what looked like two mules and a shiny metal wagon or cart of some sort.
Fortunately, Highway 80 has very large shoulders, so this man was driving totally on the shoulder, and I had a place to pull over…which I did. I grabbed my camera, fired off a few shots, and then darted across Hwy 80 to see if he would stop and talk to me…which he did. We introduced ourselves and he told me that his name was Bob Erickson. We had a nice conversation, which went something like this:
Joann: “We saw another guy going down Hwy 56 in a covered wagon. What are you guys doing?”
Bob: “We’re camping. We drove our teams from Westby to Arena for Plow and Plant Days. Now we’re driving them back to Westby…Bernice, get up there” (to the mule who was stepping back).
Joann, realizing that the tack on the side of the “mule” said, “Not a Mule.”: “Not a Mule?”
Bob: “I put that on there because people kept calling them mules.”
Joann: “They’re not mules? What are they, then?”
Bob (smirking a bit): “They’re big Texas jackrabbits!... No, they’re donkeys.”
Joann: “What kind of donkeys?”
Bob (laughing): “Big, brown ones. Their names are Bernice and Olga.”
Joann: “What do you call this vehicle…a wagon?”
Bob: “It’s a camper. I have everything I need right here – a bed, my bedroll, and I even have a breakfast nook” (as he pulled up a fold-out shelf in front of him).
Then Bob told me that he and his donkeys would be featured in Mischka Press’s 2012 Donkey Calendar.
I told him I would look for the calendar, thanked him for allowing me to take some pictures of them, and let them be on their way.
That’s the thing we love about shunpiking: you never know what you might see or whom you might meet.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
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