Colonial Chesterfield

Old Joe Tour -  California History Tour
Group Event -- The Wild West Picnic!
Barn Events!
Sleepy Hollow -  Dickens Ball
The General Store

The Riley's Farm Journal

June 1, 2003

Clear and warm with an occasional breeze.   I took a Sunday nap this morning, and we had dinner with Grandpa, Grandma, Scott, Benita, Jesse, Nicole, Ryan, Gina, Brendan, and all the kids.   We celebrated Scott's birthday.    Quiet day. 

May 23, 2003

That's quite a gap in the farm journal.   Our apologies.

We've planted over a hundred new trees--heirloom apples (Roxbury Russets, Northern Spy, Ashmead's Kernel), maples, oaks, ash, alder, and birch.   I'm beginning to see how you could become a "tree junky."   The internet has made it so easy to order bare root trees, and, of course, the pictures are so grand of eighty foot sugar maples spreading their canopies across all 800 pixels of the screen, that it's hard to resist looking for the debit card.    We're happy to report that most of them have taken very well and have leafed out.   We think we even have them protected against that great natural bane of trees--the gopher.   (Anyone who thinks "man" is the enemy of the environment, should take a second look at gophers--and then pick up a large rock.)

This year we had a very cold, very wet Spring, that was a bit more like winter, with a very late snow storm that broke quite a few branches.   Now we seem to be into the heat of the summer, and we're scrambling to get water into all the right places.    After describing water systems to a friend, he said, "I've always been just a city mouse--turn on the spigot."    When you live on a farm, you have to be part water engineer, especially on a farm with hills and valleys like ours.    Every Riley child is given a site level when they enter their majority.    We debate pipe circumference, gallons per minute, and siphoning techniques, which is why we don't have time to find out who won the American Idol contest.    

More later.

August 24, 2002

We took our bread "around town" yesterday.   Ten loaves sold over at Mom's Country Orchard and four up at Riley's Country Store.   Snow-Line will be selling them next weekend.    It's a pretty simple recipe:  grind hard red wheat into a fine flour, let some yeast stand in warm water, add the flour, honey, salt, and vegetable oil, and then knead the loaves into small tins.   They have been getting rave reviews, and Jane Kirk, our baker, says she would like to be baking five days a week, instead of one, so, if you're reading this, order up!

The last two weeks have been consumed with planning and hosting Mom and Dad's 60th wedding anniversary, with mailing, invoicing for field trips, and spending mornings with Scott, making decisions about the farm. 

August 4, 2002

We  held another "Evening with Patrick Henry" last night.   Nathan did a very, very good job on the chicken, and there was food in abundance.   We stood around in the kitchen afterwards gorging on watermelon and apple pie.    Our guests seemed more than willing to sing, which was gratifying, because we usually have to twist arms to get the crowd to attempt a song.    I distributed a version of "Yankee Doodle" that had at least twelve verses and usually I sense the crowd waning after the fourth verse.   They actually wanted to sing so many verses that we lost track of time and the Redcoats attacked the tavern and took the singing patriots without a shot.   (I made the tools of tyrants go back up into the orchard for another short assault.)   

I'm less than happy with my Patrick Henry last night, since we had guests who kept coming into the tavern during the speech, but that was my fault and we'll work on it next time.    I'm also not happy with accepting the diesel tractor, as opposed to a horse drawn hayride, but I need to get at least 100 guests to justify the expense of authenticity.    (Recreating the Old World is expensive!)   

All in all, very nice guests and a nice, cool, pleasant summer evening.

August 1, 2002

Tom is lathing ninepins today and a 4.5 inch round wooden ball to act as the striker for our ninepins court.    .    

July 31, 2002

We mulled over a reel-mower purchase to trim the nine pins court--and are still mulling.     Nathan and Mary began reorganizing the kitchen storage, and various preparations went into the near arrival of Mallory's twelfth birthday.   The head and foot pieces for the pillory are now cut and in place.    I have resolved to study logic with Mallory and Latin with Nicholas.    

July 30, 2002

Paperwork mostly--posting checks to QuickBooks, drawing up a schedule of restaurant equipment, booking school field trips, answering the phone.   I also checked on Tom's progress on the all new 18th century pillory or stocks we plan to introduce to unwary guests this weekend.    This particular pillory will allow the "criminal" to be locked up hand, head, and foot--if they are particularly limber.   Take a gander at some of the uses pillories were put to in the 18th century.  (These are gathered from a great site, www.accessible.com, which allows you to search the full text of 18th century newspapers.   It's well worth the small cost of subscribing.)  

At the Court of Assize and general Goal Delivery held here on Friday last, Owen Sullivan and John Tias, were tried for marking Bills in Imitation of the Ten Shilling Bills of this Province: They were both convicted, and received the following Sentence, viz. Sullivan to stand on the Pillory two Hours, and receive 20 Stripes at the publick Whipping Post; and Tias to stand on the Pillory one Hour, and receive 15 Stripes. 
                                September 20, 1750 The Pennsylvania Gazette

NEW YORK, May 14.    Tuesday last one David Smith, was convicted in the mayor's court, of taking or stealing goods off of a shop window in this city, and was sentenced to be whipped at the cart's tail round the town, and afterwards stand in the pillory; which sentence was accordingly executed on him the next day.  
                                 May 17, 1750 The Pennsylvania Gazette

WORCESTER, April 28. (1791) At the supreme Judicial Court, holden in this town last week, the noted Stephen Burroughs, lately employed as a Schoolmaster in Charlton, was brought to the bar, on four indictments - two for attempting rapes on his pupils, and two for the most wanton and lascivious conduct. He was convicted on three indictments, and sentenced by the Court to sit one hour on the gallows, to stand two hours in the pillory, to be whipped 90 stripes, to suffer three months imprisonment, pay costs for three years. The objects of his brutal attempt were sisters, one in the 13th and the other in the 14th year of her age.  
                --  May 11, 1791 The Pennsylvania Gazette

July 29, 2002

We hung out the closed sign yesterday and didn't do much of anything.   After helping the kids with the cow, I slept the better part of the morning, and then Mary and I took turns trying to make a sprinkler behave.   We read Deut 11 in the afternoon, and had dinner with Grandma and Grandpa.    Just before dinner, Mallory and I drove down from Grandpa's house  to milk the cow.   Mallory found one of the Redcoat wigs and put it on without telling me.  She milked her side of the cow, scooped the grain, fed the animals, and finally it dawned on me that my daughter had long, auburn, nearly torso-length hair.   She saw the look on my face and then burst out laughing.   "I've been wearing it for half an hour!"     We drove back up to Grandpa's house and she tried the same trick on her mom, who noticed it right away.   "Shoot," she said.

Over dinner, Scott, Mom, Dad, and I talked about the farm and about our plans for the packing shed this year.    Mom and Dad's sixtieth anniversary is August 6, 2002, and we're planning a small party for them the weekend of the 10th.    It's nice not having celebrities for parents--they're still married.    I didn't know this until just last year, but during World War II, Dad was stationed for a time at Point Mugu, and Mom and my older brother, Mike, were living with my Uncle Steve in Los Angeles.   Dad would send letters to Mom by carrier pigeon.   Mom still has them in her scrapbook--frail scraps of paper, once born by wing, over-what?-the San Fernando Valley?    I think they had quite a correspondence going until the base commander decided winged loved letters were against the rules.

Today, we're going to work on the 18th century pillory, built after the Williamsburg pattern, and I'm going to determine how to cut a nine pins court.   (Did you know manicured English lawns go back to the 16th century?)    More tomorrow, God willing.

July 28, 2002

We left a watermelon out on the back porch last night, and when we returned from a late night visit to Grandma and Grandpa's, a yearling black bear was scouring it out very nicely.   He backed away from the headlights, only far enough to indicate he intended to finish his meal after we went inside the house.    (I pulled as close to the back door as possible.)

This morning sees the conclusion of the 10th Virginia Civil War regiment's 24 hour visit to the farm.   For the better part of a day and night, these fellows attempt to stay in character and live out a scene from the American Civil War.   In this case,  a small platoon of Confederate soldiers were holding hostage three Union soldiers.   At one point yesterday, as the prisoners were being marched by the house here, a friend and I were pressing some cider.    The Civil War reenactors were in such good character, taking the exercise so seriously, that I felt a little sheepish about the fruit labels that were on the apples we buy this time of year.    We extend our congratulations to Gary Busik and his crew for what appeared to be a very serious attempt at re-living the past.

We were also pleased to have two very nice girls here on the farm yesterday to try out our Milking the Cow tour and all you can eat breakfast.    Sheryl and Rafael and their daughter Nikki dropped by and helped us press cider, and we enjoyed a visit from two ladies who were looking for day trip destinations for their friends in a local recreation department.    Mom and Dad sat with us on the front step for a while,  and the kids finished the day swimming up at Uncle Scott and Aunt Benita's.    

Today it's Sunday and we're going to put out the closed sign.   Best to you all...

--James Riley

P.S. For the sake of those "web portals" constantly browsing the internet to update their search engines, we include the following boiler-plate. (Feel free to read this, if you're new to our site.)

Riley's Farm is a working apple orchard and living history farm in the Oak Glen area of Southern California. In addition to farming, we love history and we have provided a venue for re-enactment units comprising many different eras. The farm regularly hosts banquets, birthday parties, weddings, and office parties. Every year, literally thousands of students participate in one of our school tours, where they experience everything from weaving, candle-dipping, and cider pressing to the drill and muster of a Revolutionary War or Civil War battle. Our farm has appeared on the History Channel and in the recently released feature film, Amistad, as well as many other film and television productions. (We even try to get the producers to include us as on screen talent, but that's another story.) On selected weekends throughout the year, we offer "farm-stay" weekends, where families can experience--clothing, wood stoves, muskets, and all--the life of an 18th or 19th century American farmer. We grow sweet corn, apples, raspberries, pears, and sunflowers, just to mention a few of our crops. 

We love America--its traditions, its people, its history, and its cherished heritage of liberty in Christ. Have we said enough? Well, one more thing: In the fall, thousands of families make an annual pilgrimage to the farms of Oak Glen to experience the closest thing to a New England fall California has to offer. Why don't you stop by and say hello?

P.S.  Stay Clear of this "Cider House" *