Some  flat scouts from Cat Scouts came to visit us and dudes  we had a houseful.  They were the perfect guests.  Not one of them threw kitty litter around the bathroom.  No one hacked up a furball either.  Mom was impressed.  We had Fing Feiko/King Meiko’s alter ego from Texas, Tristy from California from the blog Christie Paws, Izzy from Oklahoma from the blog Dezi World.  Our last visitor is Fete/Pete’s alter ego from Tennessee.

I made sure that all the flats went to the kitty litter and had some noms and water before getting in the car for their road trip.  Mom and dad rounded up the flats and placed them in the back seat together.  Not one of the flats sang out in protest but they were meowing to each other in excited voices.  Kali and I waved to the flats as they left.

The Huble Homestead is only 40 km ( 25  miles) north of Prince George but you are in total wilderness as soon as you pass the city limits.

I am Foko.  I am Shoko’s flat scout.  I will be the guide for our visit.  We all sat back and enjoyed the fresh air and before we knew it, we were at the Huble Homestead.                                                                  This Homestead consisted of a general store, blacksmith shop, stable,a couple of log houses and the old homestead itself.  Huble Homestead was built along the Fraser River for easy transportation by paddle wheel.  Travel by land was far too difficult as there were only trails to follow with pack horses and all the supplies needed for a long journey from the  Vancouver area.

Some wise words from our host and we were on our way.

We all had to show off the old fashioned loom and have a rest.  Your wondering where Fete alias Pete went as he’s not in the photo?  Fete was overly interested in the chick-hens.  He muttered something about his sister and chick-hens.

There’s Fete!  The chick-hen didn’t seem particularly interested in him but Fete was happy.

We didn’t get very far and Fete fell in a hole.  We all had to gather around and see if he was ok.  He was fine just gawking around too much.  We all had a good meow and then ran on to catch up with mom and dad.

                                                             Here is Fing Feiko (left), Foko, Tristy, Izzy and Pete in the squirrel hole.

This is an old fashioned press that was used for flattening beaver pelts for easy storage. 

We took a look through a very old stable.  Tristy was mesmerized with the old, old horse shoes.

We all had a short nap in the hay and were very refreshed afterward.

                                                               Mom and dad watched as a man made ice cream.  Looked delicious or so mom said.  Dad said it was too runny and likes the ice cream in the grocery store better.

This is the lady clerk from the General Store in proper attire for the time.  She was nice and let mom take pictures of Tristy and Izzy with Polar Cleats.

                    Mom had a pair of Polar cleats as did dad but they were pretty hard to fit over one’s boots or runners and then you must take them off each time you come in or you’ll have cleat holes in your floor.  Guess how mom found out!

The next stop on our outing was a small cabin that was actually the Blacksmith’s cabin. 

                                                           

Now this is really working from home.

This is the actual Huble House.  These folks must have been well off because even the house is whitewashed and they had a kitchen not just a wood stove.  The kitchen is separate from the house and there is a doorway that leads right to the table.

Notice the door to the kitchen behind the table.

We sat on the cold wood stove in the office of the homestead for our picture.

Talk about narrow staircases…whew…you can’t afford to be fat in the old days.                                                                

The last place we saw on our way out of the homestead area was the place where the meat was kept to keep it away from wild animals such as bears.

A pleasant way to spend the afternoon.  We all jumped in the car and headed for Prince George.  Before long we were at the outskirts.                                                                      There you are a little slice of history from northern British Columbia.