Waysider, I think you are right about the Minutemen. It rings a dim bell in the back of my mind somewhere. Weren't we around when the poor souls were trained at Limb? Probably doing useful things like preparing meals and scrubbing toilets.
FLO had a meal program to which each of us contributed a small amount, I think $7/week? It was called "Manna" which one 5th year fellow laborer pointed out can be translated "What is it?" This was the thought in many of our minds as we looked at dinner. I worked in Columbus and never had to prepare dinner, as manna only covered our evening meal Monday through Friday. Some of the souls who thought up these recipes were living in a different plane of existence from the rest of us. Much of the produce in our garden (1 1/2 acres) had to be used in more and more imaginative ways. "Squachini casserole" was one - it consisted of some yellow squash, tons of shredded zucchini, onions, cheese, hamburger maybe, Lord knows what else, baked in a casserole dish. It wasn't all that bad, just different. For breakfast we occasionally had creamed eggs over toast. This was made with whole wheat flour as the cream sauce, with chopped up hard boiled eggs. The all time strange meal was wilted mustard greens. There was a bumper crop of mustard greens in the garden the first year I was in - mustard greens are hot and bitter if you've never had the privilege. To wilt mustard greens, one made a sauce of sorts which included lots of vinegar, sugar, and maybe hard boiled eggs chopped up and I think bacon. It sucked like an open chest wound. I don't think anyone much liked it.
We also had on occasion fried liver and onions. One 4th year chick ate a large breakfast and stuffed herself at lunch so she would not have to eat supper that night, since she hated liver and onions. She then sat at the same table I was at, which happened to be headed by the coordinator of FLO, an old pal of hers from Cleveland. She very prettily asked if she had to eat this meal, since she detested it so - picture an incredibly sweet smile and much batting of eyelids. "Yep" he replied, replied, forking up a mouthful of burnst liver. Her jaw dropped to her toes, but she managed to choke down some of the hated liver. I almost had to excuse myself - she hadn't counted on the guy's legalism kicking in.
Mr. Garden just drowned his household's contribution in garlic salt. You could always tell after a liver and onions meal who had been seated at his table.
Our second year the food was better, I think. We had a lot of kids the second year of FLO. I remember a cute little girl looking at a plateful of Ratatouille (yes there is such a dish) and exclaiming "Yuck! This looks like it's already been eaten!" She was quickly ushered outside for a session with the spoon, but I think we all agreed with her. It didn't taste all that bad, though, in fact it's didn't taste to speak of at all.
We also got up every morning at 5:20 or so and reported to the coordinator's apartment basement 5:30 for prayer, manifestations, annoucements and a run which I've discussed before.
Roll away - literally translated according to usage, and held forth in the great and glorious light of the fellow laborers program - simply meant "Now it's time to clear the plates and go slave away at some menial task." Every friggin' time until one time J*m M**ne said, "Okay you can go now." Nobody moved. When he asked what was wrong, someone explained we hadn't sung "Roll Away." He said he didn't see any need to sing it every time, so off we went. I think that was the one and only time the meal we had just choked down did not end with it.
Etiquette! We were to sit with our hands neatly folded in our laps after the mandatory blessing, until the hostess picked up her fork and tasted her food. We could then do likewise. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER ask for the condiments. After the hostess has tasted each dish, she and she alone decides if salt and/or pepper are needed, and if so, she and she alone will decide whether they need to be passed. If your hostess preferred unseasoned food, such as scrumptuous and delicious boiled millet, and decided not to ask for the salt and pepper to be passed, you were doomed to gag down something bland and disgusting and tasteless without so much as a sprinkle of salt and pepper to get your taste buds rolling.
Seconds were to be offered, not requested. If the hostess was engaged in a sparklling converation, and didn't think to offer any seconds that were available, you did NOT ask, ever! I remember one guy, a former military policeman who had seen service in Viet Nam, who watched like a hawk and when everyone had had their fill of whatever, would politely ask for seconds. He would then empty every serving dish. The poor guy must have had a tapeworm - he kept losing weight in spite of his efforts. I remember one legalistic little hostess called him on it, so he simply held out the dish, looked around the table, and asked "Does anyone want any more of this?" I think the mental response was "OH HE11 NO!" but we were nicer than that. In fact, I'm pretty sure boiled millet was the leftover in question at that point in time. At any rate he got it all.
Some Rules and Regulations for a pleasant, relaxing meal in FLO:
Slide the fork under the food, don't stab it.
Place one mouthful of food in your mouth. Put down your fork. Chew each mouthful 20 times. Swallow. Blot lips with napkin. Sip your water. Repeat until full or nauseated, whichever comes first.
Such heart. Such love. I am reminded of my WOW year, when a cowboy type came to a dinner I prepared for all the new folks who were about to take PFAL. I made beef stroganoff and I don't remember what all else, but I'm sure it included dessert. At the end, this cowboy leans back in his seat, rubs his belly, and says:
"Man that was a good meal! If I'da knowed it was gonna be this good, I'da spit out my chew!"
I was glad to prepare it for him, even if he did have a bit of snuff or tobacco or something hidden in his jaw. At least he wasn't spitting on the plate. (My WOW sister nearly got the vapors over that one).
Okay: Work Details
We were put on work crews which changed occasionally, and sometimes we would all be sent to the garden. The future Mr. Garden discovered early on that I knew a radish from a weed and I got to be on garden detail. (Hopefully it was also because he thought I was cute.) There was a canning/freezing detail when the produce started coming in. There was manna detail. There was cleaning detail. There were a few people who worked in the office, and my first year there there was also the coordinator of fellowlabors, who seemingly loafed in the office most of the time, unless he was chewing out some hapless soul. (RA, if you read this please forgive me. Maybe you were thinking lofty thoughts and just looked like you were loafing).
There were times when I got chewed out for the damndest things. My second year in, there was the mother of all winters and one Saturday after work detail, several folks were skating and playing ice hockey on the frozen creek that ran through the property. I was not among them, being upstairs in the kitchen in the limb building puttering around. Reason: I HATE WINTER!!!!! Our then coordinator, PJ, comes over and escorts me to the LC's office (JM). They grill me on why I am not out frolicking with my fellow fellowlabors until I burst into tears. I am commanded to go out there and have fun. Thank God by the time I was properly bundled up and ready to bust my butt falling through the ice and freeze to death or at least be very uncomfortable, the game breaks up and I can leave. I think the real reason for this was to suck any individuality I had clung to away from me.
It is written: Thou shalt frolick in snow and ice with thy fellow fellowlaborers, and thou shalt yea verily enjoy every frigid minute of it.
Thanks for posting. I don't think evil of anyone who survived FLO, including the individuals I might have strangled at the time, given the opportunity. I expect there were more than a few who would've clobbered me for some reason or other.
Thanks for the kind words. I was not a happy camper in FL, at least not until Mr. Garden and I got engaged. I would do it again for just that reason.
I do think I learned a lot though, even if only about gritting my teeth and seeing something through to the end.
I sure hope I haven't said anything that offends you. Please take my posts with a grain of salt. Some of them are just meant to be humorous, mostly laughing at myself and the situation.
" It is written,'Thou shalt frolick in snow and ice with thy fellow fellowlaborers and thou shalt yea verily enjoy every frigid minute of it.'"
Hey! I think I heard that at morning manifestations!
OK --I didn't really.
I just figured if I said I did, people would think I actually listened instead of dozing off until the mass exodus up the steps for our daily "run with the cows".
That guy you mentioned lived in the same house I did.
One night he was rousted out of bed and told he was being tossed from the program and had 24 hrs. to clear the state lines.
He was told (by order of the MOG, that he was never, ever to enter the state of OHIO again.)
His crime?
He left the compound on a Saturday evening without permission to visit a young lady( non-FLO) in "the big city".
It was far past "lights out" when he came back and snuck into his bunk.
We were forbidden from discussing it or asking questions. I only knew because we lived in the same "house".
I always thought he was a pretty decent guy and was made a scapegoat to show us we had to do exactly as they said.
I think he was the first in a string of people who also got "the bum's rush".
I suppose I might have gotten the same treatment if they had suspected what was talked about in private conversation during "junk food runs" to The Wayside Truck Stop.
But, Hey! feel free to leave anytime you feel like it so the debuhl can squash you like a bug for leaving "the bubble of protection".
WG, no offence taken, I enjoy your posts, alot of good memories. And he wasn`t loafing he just did`nt know what he was doing. Waysider, to answer your previous question, probably painting the roof of the BRC with aluminum paint.
Geez, I didn't remember that happening to G. I didn't remember him graduating, either. That must have been our second year. Our illustrious leader was good at that.
And there were those who dated outside the household of FLO. I know one third year FL who dated a girl in a Cols. Way Home our first year there. She was a 5th year and told me all about it.
WG, no offence taken, I enjoy your posts, alot of good memories. And he wasn`t loafing he just did`nt know what he was doing. Waysider, to answer your previous question, probably painting the roof of the BRC with aluminum paint.
Say WHAT?!!!
Why in heaven's name would anyone need to paint a roof with aluminum paint?
Unless maybe the roof was aluminum, which the BRC roof was not.
Oh, sorry, I forgot we were talking about Fellowlaborers. My bad.
I must have missed that one.
Maybe that was on the day I was rearranging rocks in the creek to suit the MOG who was supervising.
That creek was infested with leaches but let's keep that to ourselves.
Wouldn't want to alarm anyone. Shhhhh!
About midway through that project, the biggest water snake I have ever seen(and I have seen many) came swimming toward the work crew.
It's amazing how fast you can move through waist deep water when you put your mind to it.
Well, maybe the snake had a premonition of the ultimate collapse of the root cellar and the poor guy was just fleeing to save his hide.
Until next time, don't forget to rinse those mung bean sprouts.
OMIGOSH! I remember that snake. I think his name was Slick?
I am not particularly afraid of snakes, and since there are no cottonmouth moccasins in Ohio (I hope) and he was swimming away from me, I thoroughly enjoyed the scene. I bet the Israelites scrambled through the opening in the Red Sea with far less alacrity than my fellow Fellowlaborers getting out of that stinking creek.
The property Limb HQ was on contained a small house and a large barn-like structure that had once housed a dance barn, which was made into two classrooms, one of which we used for "dining", and another just for classes that actually had a fireplace in it.
We were allegedly cleaning out the creek, which also contained, in addition to Slick and the leeches, (not the band that played in the dance barn) a lot of broken beer bottles. So wading in it was a more dangerous adventure than one realized, until someone brought up a jagged, neckless Bud bottle. I was more concerned about tetanus than anything else. I thought it was absolutely foolhardy to send us into that creek barefoot. And who knows what kind of diseases leeches carry? I remember one sweet young girl who got a couple on her leg and was very upset. I would've been too.
There were a lot of snakes on that property. I remember one young lady weeding potatoes spotted a little garter snake in a potato plant, patiently waiting to eat some potato beetles, I'm sure. She went about 5 feet straight up, from a sitting position to scrambling to get away. We also had some dandy spiders, which DO give me the creeps. However, we couldn't kill them in the garden, since they were doing their job of killing insects.
And my husband one day opened a drawer in the kitchen of his apartment and a mouse jumped out at him. This set off a chain reaction; there was a mouse in the box containing the dirty dishes in our house - GP found that one - and we all ended up setting traps. I don't remember the results, but at that time there was a big field in front of the apartment complex, and every autumn the little critters would seek shelter for the winter months in our homes. Mice dont' bother me much either, but the telltale, blood curdlings shrieks from my FLO "sisters" were very entertaining.
Let me describe our living quarters. On Bruce Road, off Hills-Miller Road in Delaware, Ohio, are town-house apartments, two to a building. These contain living room, L-shaped eat-in kitchen and maybe a pantry downstairs, also a half-bath. Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a full bath. They had at least partial basements, and I think in fact they were full basements. The back doors of the apartments emptied out onto a parking area. They were pretty generously sized for rentals. However, with six people living in each apartment it was a bit crowded, and could even be claustrophobic. Some of us lucky souls got a bed in a bedroom, while others were assigned rooms with bunkbeds. I lived for several months in deathly fear of falling out of a top bunk, to which I was assigned while in a particular room in a particular apartment. My bunkmate had a bad back and couldn't climb to the top bunk. I had screaming fear of heights, which of course I was to "overcome by believing". However, the only person to ever crash out of a top bunk in the middle of the night was the sleepwalker I mentioned in another posting. I did warn her it was a bad idea, so when she thudded onto the floor at dark-thirty, I wasn't surprised.
Most of the furnishings were yard-sale chic. I had brought my furniture with me, but was not permitted to move it from apartment to apartment so had to pray it wouldn't get cigarette burns on it or anything, as it was fairly new. I had a complete set of dishes, which ended up stored in a basement because my fellow fellowlaborers didn't take care of them and I objected (which of course I got screamed at for).
Here the commune thing kicks in. If you had a nice set of, say, tools to work on cars, and someone borrowed something like your favorite open end wrench and didn't bother to return it, and you found it three months later rusting in the grass outside their apartment, you were not supposed to bytch because that wrench belonged as much to your brother as to you. I loaned a pair of expensive silver bracelets to some girl to wear once. She kept them for a month, and finally I saw them locked in her car. She was deeply offended when I made her get them for me immediately. After all, she had as much right to them as I did!
There were six women in my apartment and I was one of two who owned hair dryers. The four without cheerfully used mine until it wore out and I had to get a new one. By them I had wised up and what was mine was hands-off. I got some grief for that, but the he11, they worked too, and they ended up buying their own.
Maybe I'm too materialistic or maybe I'm just a good steward. It's been my experience, however, if I take care of something I don't need to replace it as quickly.
Anyone remember the mechanics of how that whole operation worked?
I think it is amazing that we had such a high level of success in pulling that one off.
OK--- not everyone was always happy with the menu choices but, still, I think we did pretty well at making the operation smooth and functional. It's a lot of work planning, supplying and preparing a pre-set breakfast and supper (all identical) and then serving it (supper) 1/2 an hour away every day of the week at the same time for 50 people(8 houses). And eating as households at house tables, none the less.
Now, the house refrigerators were another story.
Most of the room was for Manna food but you could put your personal munchies in if they fit.
The toilet paper thread on the Just Plain Silly forum reminded me of this. Just wondered if any of you ever experienced this in the fellowlaborer program.
Cxlia Cxrter, a 6th Corps sister, while sharing with us in a women's meeting on how to wipe our bottoms (YES!-- told to use only two squares of tissue), also told us of an experience she had during fellowlaborers on her apprentice year, that I found reaaaally peculiar.
The fellowlaborers lived in a Way Home, and I don't remember how many there were, but it was a mixed group. They were all tied together with rope, from one hand to another, and they all had to live that way for a period of days, don't remember exactly how many.
With all seriousness she talked about how they had to eat together, sleep together, shower together, and --------- use the toilet, all tied to each other wrist to wrist.
Now just try to imagine the person you are tied at the wrist with trying to wipe his or her arse..........
Yep, she said they did it, and "learned so much about each other in the process."
So if one had to go potty at night (or anytime), they all went? In any of the "way homes" I lived in, if we did that, we would have been dragging a corpse or two around after a day.
So if one had to go potty at night (or anytime), they all went? In any of the "way homes" I lived in, if we did that, we would have been dragging a corpse or two around after a day.
There were both males and females in the group. I don't know if they tied them up as boy/girl/boy/girl. I don't remember whether she said. She did say, that whatever any one person had to do, they all did it together. I supposed you would have to briefly untie to pull on/off sleeves and such. But she did say they had to shower attached to each other and it was a challenge not to peek....
We all lived so close to start with, if you had given us rope we probably would have strangled one another.
We never had a "booty wipe" instructional session.
That may have been because we (each "house") had to supply our own.
If I remember correctly, here's how finances broke down:
1. Monthly FL fund
-------covered rent and utilities-----(no one had phones)
2.Manna fund
-----covered breakfast and supper------
I think it was about 6 or 7 dollars a week.(30+ years ago)
You had to eat breakfast together as a house.(familia, apple-ishious, oat groats, wheat berries, mush and all sorts of other tasty food.I was always the breakfast prep person for the house.)
For supper, we all met at limb hq and ate together. There were 8 tables. Each one represented your particular house.
Everyone ate the same thing.
One person from each house had to have a secular job that allowed them time enough to get home, ready the meal for the house and transport it to limb hq. Each house set up and cleared their own table.
If you did not pay your Manna fee, you had to sit quietly and watch everyone else eat but you were not allowed to eat.(or accept a free meal.) You could only get around this if someone secretly slipped you the money to make your payment.( or so I was told. )
3. House fund
-----this was for TP, paper towels, dish soap, etc.-----
I think it was about 5 bucks a week but went up and down as the house leader determined the weekly needs of your particular household.
Our houses were not co-ed per se.
We had single men homes, single women homes, married couple homes and family homes.
They were duplex townhomes in the same apt. complex.
The first home I was in was 4 single men and a married couple who were the house leaders.
Roped together.....That very thought is enough to make me lose my lunch. I liked my privacy. I was up in arms my first year in at the thought of room inspections. The coordinator was a male and I thought he had no friggin' business checking to see if I properly folded my undies. He smoked a pipe with this perfumy smelling tobacco in it and I can remember whenever the subject of room inspections came up, I would rush upstairs when I got home to sniff the air and see if it stunk of pipe tobacco.
I was a bit of a rebel in my early days. I had always had a "day off" from the WOW program so I could do my laundry, go to a library, shop, or just get the he11 out of the presence of the rest of the WOWs. No such deal in FLO. I remember one time I was supposed to be going someplace, felt unwell, and was in a resultant lousy mood, and rather snappily told the FLO coordinator I didn't feel like going to wherever and thanks but no thanks. He looked at me for a minute, and said "Well! You're an arrogant little bytch, aren't you?" Fortunately for both of us, he left my room right afterward, leaving me with my mouth hanging open in outraged astonishment. My house leader and another girl coaxed me into participating in whatever the happy activity was for that night, but I have never forgotten that moment.
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igotout
1975 in Kentucky under Doug MacMullen. We had a ball. But at times it was brutal.
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waysider
Well----------------
We're up to 5 now.(plus 1 bystander)
Hey John!!
Quite an interesting male to female ratio represented in that picture.
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WhiteDove
Kansas had Fellowlaborers as well. in the 70's also WOK summer outreach ambassadors
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waysider
Is WOK--- Word over Kansas?
Ohio had a summer WOW type program, also.
I think it was called Minutemen(could be wrong).
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Watered Garden
Waysider, I think you are right about the Minutemen. It rings a dim bell in the back of my mind somewhere. Weren't we around when the poor souls were trained at Limb? Probably doing useful things like preparing meals and scrubbing toilets.
FLO had a meal program to which each of us contributed a small amount, I think $7/week? It was called "Manna" which one 5th year fellow laborer pointed out can be translated "What is it?" This was the thought in many of our minds as we looked at dinner. I worked in Columbus and never had to prepare dinner, as manna only covered our evening meal Monday through Friday. Some of the souls who thought up these recipes were living in a different plane of existence from the rest of us. Much of the produce in our garden (1 1/2 acres) had to be used in more and more imaginative ways. "Squachini casserole" was one - it consisted of some yellow squash, tons of shredded zucchini, onions, cheese, hamburger maybe, Lord knows what else, baked in a casserole dish. It wasn't all that bad, just different. For breakfast we occasionally had creamed eggs over toast. This was made with whole wheat flour as the cream sauce, with chopped up hard boiled eggs. The all time strange meal was wilted mustard greens. There was a bumper crop of mustard greens in the garden the first year I was in - mustard greens are hot and bitter if you've never had the privilege. To wilt mustard greens, one made a sauce of sorts which included lots of vinegar, sugar, and maybe hard boiled eggs chopped up and I think bacon. It sucked like an open chest wound. I don't think anyone much liked it.
We also had on occasion fried liver and onions. One 4th year chick ate a large breakfast and stuffed herself at lunch so she would not have to eat supper that night, since she hated liver and onions. She then sat at the same table I was at, which happened to be headed by the coordinator of FLO, an old pal of hers from Cleveland. She very prettily asked if she had to eat this meal, since she detested it so - picture an incredibly sweet smile and much batting of eyelids. "Yep" he replied, replied, forking up a mouthful of burnst liver. Her jaw dropped to her toes, but she managed to choke down some of the hated liver. I almost had to excuse myself - she hadn't counted on the guy's legalism kicking in.
Mr. Garden just drowned his household's contribution in garlic salt. You could always tell after a liver and onions meal who had been seated at his table.
Our second year the food was better, I think. We had a lot of kids the second year of FLO. I remember a cute little girl looking at a plateful of Ratatouille (yes there is such a dish) and exclaiming "Yuck! This looks like it's already been eaten!" She was quickly ushered outside for a session with the spoon, but I think we all agreed with her. It didn't taste all that bad, though, in fact it's didn't taste to speak of at all.
We also got up every morning at 5:20 or so and reported to the coordinator's apartment basement 5:30 for prayer, manifestations, annoucements and a run which I've discussed before.
More later, gotta go.
WG
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Larry N Moore
It was originally called WOO. I was a member of its first wave sent to a town called Bucyrus. After that it might have been changed.
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WhiteDove
Yes Waysider Word over Kansas I think the Minutemen were in 1976 . Not sure if they continued past then or not.
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waysider
My younger brother was in the summer program.
I think he was only about 15 at the time.
I don't think you could do that sort of thing today with all the laws that would factor in.
He did experience a lot of growth as a young man on the cusp of adulthood, though.
Later, he too went through the Fellowlaborer program and graduated.
He doesn't post here because he doesn't have easy access to a computer.
WG-- Do you remember how MANY rules and regulations of table etiquette we had to follow at every meal?
You could never just sit down and eat a meal like a normal bunch of people.
To this day, if I am at a family gathering, I find myself waiting for the hostess to "start" the meal.
I guess that's not all bad but it draws some strange looks at times.
That's a hard habit to break.
And did we really have to sing "Roll Away" after EVERY evening meal? <_<
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Watered Garden
Roll away - literally translated according to usage, and held forth in the great and glorious light of the fellow laborers program - simply meant "Now it's time to clear the plates and go slave away at some menial task." Every friggin' time until one time J*m M**ne said, "Okay you can go now." Nobody moved. When he asked what was wrong, someone explained we hadn't sung "Roll Away." He said he didn't see any need to sing it every time, so off we went. I think that was the one and only time the meal we had just choked down did not end with it.
Etiquette! We were to sit with our hands neatly folded in our laps after the mandatory blessing, until the hostess picked up her fork and tasted her food. We could then do likewise. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER ask for the condiments. After the hostess has tasted each dish, she and she alone decides if salt and/or pepper are needed, and if so, she and she alone will decide whether they need to be passed. If your hostess preferred unseasoned food, such as scrumptuous and delicious boiled millet, and decided not to ask for the salt and pepper to be passed, you were doomed to gag down something bland and disgusting and tasteless without so much as a sprinkle of salt and pepper to get your taste buds rolling.
Seconds were to be offered, not requested. If the hostess was engaged in a sparklling converation, and didn't think to offer any seconds that were available, you did NOT ask, ever! I remember one guy, a former military policeman who had seen service in Viet Nam, who watched like a hawk and when everyone had had their fill of whatever, would politely ask for seconds. He would then empty every serving dish. The poor guy must have had a tapeworm - he kept losing weight in spite of his efforts. I remember one legalistic little hostess called him on it, so he simply held out the dish, looked around the table, and asked "Does anyone want any more of this?" I think the mental response was "OH HE11 NO!" but we were nicer than that. In fact, I'm pretty sure boiled millet was the leftover in question at that point in time. At any rate he got it all.
Some Rules and Regulations for a pleasant, relaxing meal in FLO:
Slide the fork under the food, don't stab it.
Place one mouthful of food in your mouth. Put down your fork. Chew each mouthful 20 times. Swallow. Blot lips with napkin. Sip your water. Repeat until full or nauseated, whichever comes first.
Such heart. Such love. I am reminded of my WOW year, when a cowboy type came to a dinner I prepared for all the new folks who were about to take PFAL. I made beef stroganoff and I don't remember what all else, but I'm sure it included dessert. At the end, this cowboy leans back in his seat, rubs his belly, and says:
"Man that was a good meal! If I'da knowed it was gonna be this good, I'da spit out my chew!"
I was glad to prepare it for him, even if he did have a bit of snuff or tobacco or something hidden in his jaw. At least he wasn't spitting on the plate. (My WOW sister nearly got the vapors over that one).
Okay: Work Details
We were put on work crews which changed occasionally, and sometimes we would all be sent to the garden. The future Mr. Garden discovered early on that I knew a radish from a weed and I got to be on garden detail. (Hopefully it was also because he thought I was cute.) There was a canning/freezing detail when the produce started coming in. There was manna detail. There was cleaning detail. There were a few people who worked in the office, and my first year there there was also the coordinator of fellowlabors, who seemingly loafed in the office most of the time, unless he was chewing out some hapless soul. (RA, if you read this please forgive me. Maybe you were thinking lofty thoughts and just looked like you were loafing).
There were times when I got chewed out for the damndest things. My second year in, there was the mother of all winters and one Saturday after work detail, several folks were skating and playing ice hockey on the frozen creek that ran through the property. I was not among them, being upstairs in the kitchen in the limb building puttering around. Reason: I HATE WINTER!!!!! Our then coordinator, PJ, comes over and escorts me to the LC's office (JM). They grill me on why I am not out frolicking with my fellow fellowlabors until I burst into tears. I am commanded to go out there and have fun. Thank God by the time I was properly bundled up and ready to bust my butt falling through the ice and freeze to death or at least be very uncomfortable, the game breaks up and I can leave. I think the real reason for this was to suck any individuality I had clung to away from me.
It is written: Thou shalt frolick in snow and ice with thy fellow fellowlaborers, and thou shalt yea verily enjoy every frigid minute of it.
Well this is sure long enough.
More later,
WG
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Watered Garden
Breeze,
Thanks for posting. I don't think evil of anyone who survived FLO, including the individuals I might have strangled at the time, given the opportunity. I expect there were more than a few who would've clobbered me for some reason or other.
Thanks for the kind words. I was not a happy camper in FL, at least not until Mr. Garden and I got engaged. I would do it again for just that reason.
I do think I learned a lot though, even if only about gritting my teeth and seeing something through to the end.
I sure hope I haven't said anything that offends you. Please take my posts with a grain of salt. Some of them are just meant to be humorous, mostly laughing at myself and the situation.
WG
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waysider
" It is written,'Thou shalt frolick in snow and ice with thy fellow fellowlaborers and thou shalt yea verily enjoy every frigid minute of it.'"
Hey! I think I heard that at morning manifestations!
OK --I didn't really.
I just figured if I said I did, people would think I actually listened instead of dozing off until the mass exodus up the steps for our daily "run with the cows".
That guy you mentioned lived in the same house I did.
One night he was rousted out of bed and told he was being tossed from the program and had 24 hrs. to clear the state lines.
He was told (by order of the MOG, that he was never, ever to enter the state of OHIO again.)
His crime?
He left the compound on a Saturday evening without permission to visit a young lady( non-FLO) in "the big city".
It was far past "lights out" when he came back and snuck into his bunk.
We were forbidden from discussing it or asking questions. I only knew because we lived in the same "house".
I always thought he was a pretty decent guy and was made a scapegoat to show us we had to do exactly as they said.
I think he was the first in a string of people who also got "the bum's rush".
I suppose I might have gotten the same treatment if they had suspected what was talked about in private conversation during "junk food runs" to The Wayside Truck Stop.
But, Hey! feel free to leave anytime you feel like it so the debuhl can squash you like a bug for leaving "the bubble of protection".
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Breeze
WG, no offence taken, I enjoy your posts, alot of good memories. And he wasn`t loafing he just did`nt know what he was doing. Waysider, to answer your previous question, probably painting the roof of the BRC with aluminum paint.
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Watered Garden
Geez, I didn't remember that happening to G. I didn't remember him graduating, either. That must have been our second year. Our illustrious leader was good at that.
And there were those who dated outside the household of FLO. I know one third year FL who dated a girl in a Cols. Way Home our first year there. She was a 5th year and told me all about it.
WG
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waysider
Say WHAT?!!!
Why in heaven's name would anyone need to paint a roof with aluminum paint?
Unless maybe the roof was aluminum, which the BRC roof was not.
Oh, sorry, I forgot we were talking about Fellowlaborers. My bad.
I must have missed that one.
Maybe that was on the day I was rearranging rocks in the creek to suit the MOG who was supervising.
That creek was infested with leaches but let's keep that to ourselves.
Wouldn't want to alarm anyone. Shhhhh!
About midway through that project, the biggest water snake I have ever seen(and I have seen many) came swimming toward the work crew.
It's amazing how fast you can move through waist deep water when you put your mind to it.
Well, maybe the snake had a premonition of the ultimate collapse of the root cellar and the poor guy was just fleeing to save his hide.
Until next time, don't forget to rinse those mung bean sprouts.
Yeah! You heard me right! I said RINSE 'em!
Rinse, Rinse, Rinse!
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Watered Garden
OMIGOSH! I remember that snake. I think his name was Slick?
I am not particularly afraid of snakes, and since there are no cottonmouth moccasins in Ohio (I hope) and he was swimming away from me, I thoroughly enjoyed the scene. I bet the Israelites scrambled through the opening in the Red Sea with far less alacrity than my fellow Fellowlaborers getting out of that stinking creek.
The property Limb HQ was on contained a small house and a large barn-like structure that had once housed a dance barn, which was made into two classrooms, one of which we used for "dining", and another just for classes that actually had a fireplace in it.
We were allegedly cleaning out the creek, which also contained, in addition to Slick and the leeches, (not the band that played in the dance barn) a lot of broken beer bottles. So wading in it was a more dangerous adventure than one realized, until someone brought up a jagged, neckless Bud bottle. I was more concerned about tetanus than anything else. I thought it was absolutely foolhardy to send us into that creek barefoot. And who knows what kind of diseases leeches carry? I remember one sweet young girl who got a couple on her leg and was very upset. I would've been too.
WG
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Watered Garden
There were a lot of snakes on that property. I remember one young lady weeding potatoes spotted a little garter snake in a potato plant, patiently waiting to eat some potato beetles, I'm sure. She went about 5 feet straight up, from a sitting position to scrambling to get away. We also had some dandy spiders, which DO give me the creeps. However, we couldn't kill them in the garden, since they were doing their job of killing insects.
And my husband one day opened a drawer in the kitchen of his apartment and a mouse jumped out at him. This set off a chain reaction; there was a mouse in the box containing the dirty dishes in our house - GP found that one - and we all ended up setting traps. I don't remember the results, but at that time there was a big field in front of the apartment complex, and every autumn the little critters would seek shelter for the winter months in our homes. Mice dont' bother me much either, but the telltale, blood curdlings shrieks from my FLO "sisters" were very entertaining.
Let me describe our living quarters. On Bruce Road, off Hills-Miller Road in Delaware, Ohio, are town-house apartments, two to a building. These contain living room, L-shaped eat-in kitchen and maybe a pantry downstairs, also a half-bath. Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a full bath. They had at least partial basements, and I think in fact they were full basements. The back doors of the apartments emptied out onto a parking area. They were pretty generously sized for rentals. However, with six people living in each apartment it was a bit crowded, and could even be claustrophobic. Some of us lucky souls got a bed in a bedroom, while others were assigned rooms with bunkbeds. I lived for several months in deathly fear of falling out of a top bunk, to which I was assigned while in a particular room in a particular apartment. My bunkmate had a bad back and couldn't climb to the top bunk. I had screaming fear of heights, which of course I was to "overcome by believing". However, the only person to ever crash out of a top bunk in the middle of the night was the sleepwalker I mentioned in another posting. I did warn her it was a bad idea, so when she thudded onto the floor at dark-thirty, I wasn't surprised.
Most of the furnishings were yard-sale chic. I had brought my furniture with me, but was not permitted to move it from apartment to apartment so had to pray it wouldn't get cigarette burns on it or anything, as it was fairly new. I had a complete set of dishes, which ended up stored in a basement because my fellow fellowlaborers didn't take care of them and I objected (which of course I got screamed at for).
Here the commune thing kicks in. If you had a nice set of, say, tools to work on cars, and someone borrowed something like your favorite open end wrench and didn't bother to return it, and you found it three months later rusting in the grass outside their apartment, you were not supposed to bytch because that wrench belonged as much to your brother as to you. I loaned a pair of expensive silver bracelets to some girl to wear once. She kept them for a month, and finally I saw them locked in her car. She was deeply offended when I made her get them for me immediately. After all, she had as much right to them as I did!
There were six women in my apartment and I was one of two who owned hair dryers. The four without cheerfully used mine until it wore out and I had to get a new one. By them I had wised up and what was mine was hands-off. I got some grief for that, but the he11, they worked too, and they ended up buying their own.
Maybe I'm too materialistic or maybe I'm just a good steward. It's been my experience, however, if I take care of something I don't need to replace it as quickly.
WG
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waysider
MANNA!
(our food co-op which served 50 people)
Anyone remember the mechanics of how that whole operation worked?
I think it is amazing that we had such a high level of success in pulling that one off.
OK--- not everyone was always happy with the menu choices but, still, I think we did pretty well at making the operation smooth and functional. It's a lot of work planning, supplying and preparing a pre-set breakfast and supper (all identical) and then serving it (supper) 1/2 an hour away every day of the week at the same time for 50 people(8 houses). And eating as households at house tables, none the less.
Now, the house refrigerators were another story.
Most of the room was for Manna food but you could put your personal munchies in if they fit.
Better put your name on it or else.
Even that didn't always work.
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Catcup
The toilet paper thread on the Just Plain Silly forum reminded me of this. Just wondered if any of you ever experienced this in the fellowlaborer program.
Cxlia Cxrter, a 6th Corps sister, while sharing with us in a women's meeting on how to wipe our bottoms (YES!-- told to use only two squares of tissue), also told us of an experience she had during fellowlaborers on her apprentice year, that I found reaaaally peculiar.
The fellowlaborers lived in a Way Home, and I don't remember how many there were, but it was a mixed group. They were all tied together with rope, from one hand to another, and they all had to live that way for a period of days, don't remember exactly how many.
With all seriousness she talked about how they had to eat together, sleep together, shower together, and --------- use the toilet, all tied to each other wrist to wrist.
Now just try to imagine the person you are tied at the wrist with trying to wipe his or her arse..........
Yep, she said they did it, and "learned so much about each other in the process."
Indeedy do....
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rhino
Indeedy doo doo ...
Were they boy girl boy girl?
I guess they untied to change clothes?
So if one had to go potty at night (or anytime), they all went? In any of the "way homes" I lived in, if we did that, we would have been dragging a corpse or two around after a day.
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Catcup
There were both males and females in the group. I don't know if they tied them up as boy/girl/boy/girl. I don't remember whether she said. She did say, that whatever any one person had to do, they all did it together. I supposed you would have to briefly untie to pull on/off sleeves and such. But she did say they had to shower attached to each other and it was a challenge not to peek....
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waysider
I never experienced the rope scenario.
We all lived so close to start with, if you had given us rope we probably would have strangled one another.
We never had a "booty wipe" instructional session.
That may have been because we (each "house") had to supply our own.
If I remember correctly, here's how finances broke down:
1. Monthly FL fund
-------covered rent and utilities-----(no one had phones)
2.Manna fund
-----covered breakfast and supper------
I think it was about 6 or 7 dollars a week.(30+ years ago)
You had to eat breakfast together as a house.(familia, apple-ishious, oat groats, wheat berries, mush and all sorts of other tasty food.I was always the breakfast prep person for the house.)
For supper, we all met at limb hq and ate together. There were 8 tables. Each one represented your particular house.
Everyone ate the same thing.
One person from each house had to have a secular job that allowed them time enough to get home, ready the meal for the house and transport it to limb hq. Each house set up and cleared their own table.
If you did not pay your Manna fee, you had to sit quietly and watch everyone else eat but you were not allowed to eat.(or accept a free meal.) You could only get around this if someone secretly slipped you the money to make your payment.( or so I was told.
)
3. House fund
-----this was for TP, paper towels, dish soap, etc.-----
I think it was about 5 bucks a week but went up and down as the house leader determined the weekly needs of your particular household.
Our houses were not co-ed per se.
We had single men homes, single women homes, married couple homes and family homes.
They were duplex townhomes in the same apt. complex.
The first home I was in was 4 single men and a married couple who were the house leaders.
Plenty of togetherness but no ropes.
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Watered Garden
Roped together.....That very thought is enough to make me lose my lunch. I liked my privacy. I was up in arms my first year in at the thought of room inspections. The coordinator was a male and I thought he had no friggin' business checking to see if I properly folded my undies. He smoked a pipe with this perfumy smelling tobacco in it and I can remember whenever the subject of room inspections came up, I would rush upstairs when I got home to sniff the air and see if it stunk of pipe tobacco.
I was a bit of a rebel in my early days. I had always had a "day off" from the WOW program so I could do my laundry, go to a library, shop, or just get the he11 out of the presence of the rest of the WOWs. No such deal in FLO. I remember one time I was supposed to be going someplace, felt unwell, and was in a resultant lousy mood, and rather snappily told the FLO coordinator I didn't feel like going to wherever and thanks but no thanks. He looked at me for a minute, and said "Well! You're an arrogant little bytch, aren't you?" Fortunately for both of us, he left my room right afterward, leaving me with my mouth hanging open in outraged astonishment. My house leader and another girl coaxed me into participating in whatever the happy activity was for that night, but I have never forgotten that moment.
WG
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