POSSUM RIDGE RANCH
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A GLIMPSE OF "THE RIDGE" -- THE NEXT THING TO PARADISE

"Everybody needs a place to set their stuff down." (My old Pappy)


The Hovel, 1899-1982.  In the back yard, 1970. This house was probably built in 1899  by William Drumm. It was a rather crude log house, typical of many of that day. Scores of such houses survived into the '50s and '60s, but most are now long gone.

POSSUM RIDGE RANCH

Possum Ridge Ranch is comprised of 100 acres of some of the most beautiful scenery in Southern Illinois. Approximately half woods and half pasture, the spread is nestled in the Shawnee Hills and Shawnee National Forest,  with forest and pastoral views in every direction. Three-quarters of a mile of Pridger Creek, a branch of Gibbon's Creek, meanders the length of the property. It has two springs, Car Spring, and Bed Spring, and four ponds -- well stocked with catfish, bass, and blue-gill. We maintain a small beef herd of about 20 head of mixed breed cattle, known as the "Stand-'round Girls." Occasionally we raise a few meat hogs to butcher, and usually keep a flock of mixed breed chickens on hand for eggs.


The expanded Hovel. "Rambling Hovel", 1998. Hovels and sheds enjoy very low property tax rates, and we enjoyed them for many years. Then the assessor found out about the addition and called it a house, and upped the assessment!


Rambling Hovel -- Another View. Tear down that crude old log house? Not in this life-time! I just hewed a few more logs and added on. "No foundation, only pillar rocks," I told the assessor, "and we still have an outhouse. That ought to help the assessment considerably."
Keeping things in character is part of the Possum Ridge philosophy. Nothing looks too new or modern -- not even the new barn. We've never even owned a new car. Even the new computer I'm building is natural wood-sided. The Possum Ridge building code is "If its close enough for government work, it's too damned close." If you build anything too level, it causes the hill to look crooked. Thus everything is built off level, out of plumb, and never too straight. If a hole develops in the roof, the floor should have sufficient pitch to shed water. One of the greatest attributes of life in the country is the wonderful privacy that it affords. But for the fear of being accused of spousal or child abuse, I would never have allowed even a telephone (too intrusive) or television ("junk food for the mind") on the place. Of course now, with the advent of the Internet, even I am sort of hooked on telecommunications gimickry and gadgetry. It's a great reference source, and publishing platform. Now I never have to leave the farm, except for nails and salt, and can usually get my wife to go get them. (She loves any excuse to get in her car to go -- anywhere.) Not that I'm a true hermit, but I probably would be if I wasn't married.


The "Stand-Around" girls. Standing around.


The South Pasture, "Jargo" in foreground. Stand Around girls in background.


Me and old Short-Stack, 1970. Short-Stack celebrated its 50th birthday (or assembly-day) in 2000.


"Progress," Possum Ridge style.  Me, old Short-Stack, and Jargo, 1998.
   

Ye Olde Wood Mizer

Turning Logs into Lumber

The Barn Project

Turning Lumber into a Barn (Boatshop?)

 


Building a Dreamboat from Scratch

PRIDGER'S ARK?

Building a cruising sailboat on a farm on Possum Ridge may seem a little strange since the spread is twelve miles from the Ohio river (as the crow flies), and about six hundred miles from the Gulf of Mexico. But a sailor never really gets the salt water out of his blood, and a cruising sailor is hooked for life too, and I was a "yachty" once. It's fun to putter around with boats, even if there is no water handy. And — who knows? — maybe I'll float down the Ohio and Mississippi someday and sail to the South Seas. Men have been known to do stranger things.

Click here to check on progress from time to time.

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