We calculated last night our time away from home has been 4 weeks. In this time, our assortment of dish ware has been limited – but I have been pleased with the many good meals we have invented. I brought along a fair amount of garden produce, of which we are just now depleting . Last night we had yummy roasted veggies and leftover carrot cake from the New Morning Bakery. I made enough for this morning’s brunch to take along – which I have just finished eating ! I love our new 3 – tiered stainless steel lunchbox! It has been a revelation in easy on-the-go dining . A bowl for Pa , a bowl for moi, and a bowl for Beau .
Our morning routine while working on Pa’s grandma’s old house is to get up early, have a cup of tea with toast and head out to the nearby grassy field to let Beau go for a run and go potty . Then , time allowing we continue our walk through the neighborhoods where Pa grew up and knows so well . Of course , we always have our masks with us , though not on as we seldom meet others . But if we do , we don’t approach them and /or we give people space . So today, we were walking down the sidewalk when we saw in the near distance an older man approaching . On our right was a narrow walkway/alley Pa pulled us over to , but as we were managing to get our masks on – another group at the other end of the alley appeared and waved at us – apparently it was probably their private walk . Not knowing for sure what to do, masks on – we stealthily hustled out of there – just as the older man was right in front of us . I have never felt more like a bandit .
Rhodies
Almost every home in the old neighborhoods of Corvallis is blessed with a beautiful tree and there are many examples of lush landscape designs , often featuring a big rhododendron . We are planning to redo the front of Grandma’s yard , reviving what is there and bringing new plants eventually . I am not sure if it was Pa’s thriftiness that made him suggest we could just go up in the forest and dig up a big rhody and if he really thought that was a good idea , but I told him “that has got to be illegal” . He’s still the guy I fell in love with who lived in a hidden treehouse. I think I am more sensible, and thriftier, and will just dig up some plants from our own overgrown yard in Entiat .
Scrappiness
This fixing up the old family home has been both rewarding and challenging . The yard was a jungle of blackberry brambles, overgrown laurel trees, and neglected lilacs, ferns, hydrangeas and unknown shrubs and is now a fairly blank canvas . The basement and garage were rat and possum habitats, and are now neatly ( for the time being ) arranged shops with old tools and treasures from the generations of mechanics who have lived here . The house itself is around 100 years old , built with long grain wood floors , high ceilings , plastered walls and interesting woodwork – all in need of care and love. Painting the exterior has been our primary goal , and after a pro painter hemmed and hawed about how much the tedium of hand scraping the peeling surfaces would cost, Pa decided we would paint the house ourselves . The color scheme was chosen and with the help of our three sons , work began . 3 weeks later, we were nearly finished . One flaw remained . There is a little back entryway outcropping built of flimsy wood that had a gaping hole made by who know what – an angry boot? A hungry rodent? An errant ball? On one of our trips to Home Depot , I was done with my shopping , waiting at the checkout area when Pa came along with a few items in the cart and a large sheet of what I assumed was plywood for patching . But when the checker was ready to scan it , he told her he had come across it in the aisle and that it was packing material – and on better inspection – it was a very flimsy sheet just barely a grade higher than cardboard – but hey – thriftiness wins again !
Beau James and I howl harmoniously with canine passion. When I prepare a carnivore’s delight meal for my dear one, served lovingly on china at a place of honor, he eats to please me, but later when we dance, tug of warring a dish towel between us, it is more humanity than he wants. His love has limits. All that nourishment spoiled, he asks for a simple meal of kibble on the floor. His love is like gravity, spinning circles with unleashed abandon. It is untamed and generous. It is the peaceful rest of a satisfied soul. I love Beau.
Gary began working as an apprentice carpenter after passing the United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America test in April , 1977 in Corvallis , OR. He worked for many companies in Oregon building offices, a fire station substation, a heavy timber framed warehouse, schools, private homes, and more. I recall that on the warehouse project for Westwood Structures he was highly valued for his ability to nimbly carry heavy sheets of plywood up a bow truss system 65 feet in the air. Thank goodness he didn’t take them up on the offer to continue with them permanently! In the early 80’s he worked for his brother-in-law building houseboats on Lake Union in Seattle, WA. In 1983 we moved to Entiat, WA . Gary continued his career in construction working for various firms in the North Central Washington area and sometimes traveling out of town for jobs. In 1984 he was a field superintendent for Gencon Construction and remodeled and built an addition to a Prosser, WA school. In following years he worked for Impero, Moen, Shea, Imco, Redding, Levernier, Hale and Long , Lydig and Cree Construction companies building so many buildings in North Central Washington. ( I will need to research more to add all of the various structures ) In 1994 He was hired by Aldrich and Associates as a Foreman Carpenter on the addition of the ambulatory surgery center for the Wenatchee Valley Clinic . In July 1996, he was appointed the Field Superintendent for the new medical facililty for Wenatchee Valley Clinic in Omak, WA. The remainder of his career has continued with Aldrich and Associates making this year his 26th with Aldrich and his 43rd in the construction field. Aldrich has been a steady, progressive, and honorable company for him to work for. He and our family have greatly benefitted from the opportunities he has earned and been offered, and from his very dedicated work ethic. These excerpt from a few letters of recommendation I found describe him well, “ Gary’s greatest strength lies in his willingness to accept responsibility, his willingness to work hard…, his honest, sincere, yet firm manner. He is a creative, yet practical problem solver. “ and from another letter , “Gary’s integrity and honesty are flawless. He is timely in his work; never late, and puts in a generously full day.”
Gary often says how good he feels about the recent years working to improve the Columbia Valley Community Health facilities in Wenatchee, Ephrata, Chelan, and Moses Lake. We were early patrons of Community Health in Wenatchee when it was just a small office building on Wenatchee Avenue, and were parents of very young children. He feels that his work has helped to provide support for families who need good medical care regardless of their ability to pay. He also feels good having been able to be a leader to the many workers he has supervised.
We are so looking forward to the freedom to make unhurried visits to see our large extended family and dear friends to do the things we love to do together. Our first trip will be to Oregon to see Gary’s mom and sister and 2 of our kids’ families. Up at The Pines, I will be his regular working buddy from now on. And we have an apprentice – Beau James the dog. Gary is learning to be my assistant chef and dishwasher. Our wish is to be thankful for each day, make good choices and see what happens! Cheers!
As I write today, the growing sense that a huge downpouring of every kind of calamity, disaster, depression, revolution, etc. , is but a couple of weeks away. I won’t review what we all have been experiencing… but will offer a very few thoughts on what I find interesting about it.
How is it changing our paradigm? For my part, a reflection on the power of a real and present danger to impose change on human behavior is remarkable. It truly would be amazing if we had leaders who suddenly realized the true importance of life on earth and our role in affecting and saving it. Mother Earth seems to be taking matters into her own hands. She is resilient and has a lot more eons to go. We are begging her to give us another chance. What can we give up and still live good lives?
Another thought I just had was what if we were to purposely avoid the name of the perpetrator ( even if the perp is a virus ) to lessen its greed for fame and notoriety. The strange think is that there really is a different kind of virus pushing humans to act ridiculously… 911 calls for folks who are out of TP?! Yikes.
No matter simple my playing is, I bask in the harmonic sounds and interesting rhythms of the songs in my Easy Piano Charlie Brown Collection. Vince Guaraldi’s compositions are balm to my mornings. If you choose to listen, and the first notes are jarring, be patient, it gets a bit better. For parents, of children who play music, I also encourage you to be patient. Music is the best , and we need it to grow exponentially.
One of the most challenging things to teach Beau James is impulse control. I have seen such improvement with consistent training. He is much more patient, and last night stayed totally cool and calm while I worked for a good long while in the garden. Might have just been the time of day, but I gave him lots of “good dog” encouragement because he was using self control.
Learning to control my own impulses is another story. Yesterday, I decided I needed to a haircut and because I am somewhat reluctant to sit down for a hairdresser, I figured I could just cut it myself. Or at least get a start on it. So , I watched a YouTube about how to put your hair up in a ponytail and snip off the ends. The girl had perfect hair, I sort of followed her directions – snip, snip – and hey not too bad, but maybe a little uneven. I regretted my impatience, and decided I better go to town and have a real hairdresser fix me up. The first place I called was full for the day. But once I was in Chelan, I looked up a few more places I could go. I didn’t have much time, as Beau was in the back of the car, and I don’t like to leave him for long. There was one place I found that was a combination Barber and Hairdresser Shop. The owner only accepted walk-ins, which was perfect for me… but when she opened up after lunch, I was fourth in line behind two older men and one younger. I found out she only accepted cash after the young man had to leave to get cash from Walmart. I realized I only had about 7 dollars and the cut cost $17. I thought about going for cash, but by that time I had lost my patience and just drove home. What the heck, I can just do this myself , I thought. This time I didn’t’ even consider watching an instructional video, just ponied up, and chopped off a little more. It actually turned out pretty good , which does not bode well as I will likely suffer the consequences of impulsivity in the future and not fare so well.
Our house in K.C., Mo. was so overflowing with stuff that when visitors arrived the protocal was to ‘Quick, turn the lights off! Throw a sheet over the table!”, so that they couldn’t see the mess. We had trouble entering our bedrooms because the doorways were blocked by clothes hanging on pull-up bars between jambs. Our home was a classic two story colonial in the school district of Southwest High School, which had the reputation of being one of the best public schools in the nation. Nanny had instilled the reasoning that housekeeping was a waste of talent in comparison to the more lofty pursuits of education, music, drama and sports. When it fell upon us as children to dispense of all that accumulation it was a Sisyphean tempered with Bacchnalian escapes to Loose Park’s fountains after swigs of Boones Farm Apple Wine. Jimmy’s request was to someday have only the barest essentials necessary to life – a clean bed and a checkbook. And one day, near the end of the summer of 1971, we made it happen. I remember his laughter when he discovered his wish granted.
In September, Ruth Louise left for college with the departing salute, “Goodbye Kansas City, Hello World!” . Dolly and I packed our trunks, suitcases and duffles and boarded the train for Madison , Wisconsin. Train travel ran in our blood. Harley , our grandfather had been an inspector for the Santa Fe line. Nanny had a lifelong pass and all three of her children including Mama had extensively traveled the country by train when they were young. As kids , we made regular trips between Kansas City and Chanute, Kansas on the train and by car. Travel by train fills a sentimental yearning, comforting and exciting.
What I had heard about Madison from Dolly was true. It would be my first exposure to the exciting vibrancy of a college town in the lovely lake country of Wisconsin. In 1971 Madison was riding the youthful wave of dissension and experimentation. Over 40,000 students came to seek their future at the UW. Everyone rode bikes and hitchhiked to their destinations. Riots protesting Vietnam on the UW campus were continuing after the Dow Chemical riot and the Sterling Hall bombing of 1968. We were bound to join this explosive scene. It was a dramatic contrast to the more conservative midwestern lifestyle in which cheerleading, football, dances and high school plays were my passions. In our suitcases were all the things we imagined we’d need for beginning the rest of our lives. I don’t recall going to a store to shop for our wardrobes, because from under the piles of clothes that had mostly been rummage sale finds, there were dresses, fur coats, shoes and treasures from Mama’s more glamorous past. We had tried on and divided the random and beautiful relics to outfit our new personas. Amongst our choices were a black velveteen halter style one piece bathing suit, several sheer embroidered peasant style blouses, dresses from the 1930’s , a full length skunk fur coat, and some really lovely impractical satin night gowns. We had impractically everything to start our new lives and hopefully new romances. Our cooking experience was really minimal , as Mama had skipped learning or educating us in that field. We filled our duffel bags with pots and pans we saved from the kitchen and as we dragged them through the Chicago train station we fell down with the strain and hilarity we felt as we drew attention to ourselves the clattering noise.
Long ago, growing up in Kansas City, we adopted a little black dog with wavy fur, a little white badge on his chest. As we sat and played with this little puppy at the breakfast room table, thinking up names, it was Dolly who came up with Boo Boo. Fitting, because it was certainly a mistake for our family to have a dog. If you lived on our block, you would have seen early morning dashes as one or two of us ran through your yard racing to catch Boo Boo, who had gotten loose from his chain. Finally cornering, luring or improbably wearing him out we would fling our bodies on his and finally be able to head to school. Coincidentally, my husband Gary had the same kind of experience, his dog was a sleek Afghan capable of leaping tall fences, and attaining speeds of 30 mph or more. Upon Sparrow’s capture, school was probably out of Gary’s plan for the day. What a strange rite of passage we shared. Surely there must have been some gain from these early morning runs, if only to burn some teenage angst from our spirits. Later in Boo Boo’s life , when tragedy struck our family, his life became the pattern our own lives seemed to be following. Mama had died, and we were set free upon the world. Jimmy, our older brother who had interviewed Jean Paul Sartre shared the basics of existentialism with us. I thought I totally got it – the pointlessness of Life. We made up the philosophy of the Boo Boo cycle as we sorted through the mountains of clothes, belongings, and the accumulation from years of Mama’s aching need to find comfort in things and thrill in rummage sale treasure hunting. As we packed bag after large garbage bag to be given away, totalling by the end of the summer to over a thousand, we considered the highs and lows of life, the mundane and the profound. That summer we were challenged to find meaning, when life seemed to offer both nothing and everything. For soon we would all at once scatter in 4 directions from the home we had grown up in. Ruth Louise to college at Northwestern, Jimmy to law school at Yale, Johnny to Oklahoma with Daddy, and Dolly back to school at the UW Madison. I went with Dolly to live in a small apartment and attend West High School. Only Nanny, our maternal elderly grandmother who lived 2 blocks away would be left behind. – to be continued.
I am day by day accessing the untold benefits of this new pup. I have seen the dawn, heard and responded to the morning birds, gazed at the stars and moon more times in the last few days than in months, maybe years. Realized that being barefoot in the grass in the morning dew is pleasant. But that it is smart to place important things in place you will remember, because you might need things in a hurry. Also, the truth of this saying “You can lead a pup to grass, but you can’t make him poop”. Is that a saying? It should be.
I have cleaned the floors of my house more thoroughly and regularly than ever. Been shown all kinds of tunnels, caves and toys. Laundry was never so entertaining. I have met new people and taken time share more than just a quick greeting.
We discovered a full rainbow in the spray of the hose. ( did you know you can see the full spectrum and circumference of a rainbow if you position the spray in just the right angle in relation to the sunlight? ).
We have listened to my sister Ruth, (who has such a myriad of god-given and well honed talents) play our grandmother’s piano piece “Mountain Stream” composer unknown, our mama’s piece “Liebestraum – Nocturne in A flat”, a most lovely “Autumn Leaves” which she sang and played and a great jazz blues piece of Ruth’s own composition. Beau needed to be exposed , and it was not only he whose brain was enriched as we listened in rapture. ( on a side note, years ago Ruth pieced together in her mind and on the keys the full rendition of “Mountain Stream” as there is no sheet music for it to be found. )
Being responsible for a creature with needs to find pattern, to explore, to learn and to rest gives one reason to do the same. Taking care of one so loyal and dependent gives reason to be one’s best self. The rewards of kindness and praise are so evident. It would never have occurred to me how taking care of something could make me more thoughtful and productive, and that might not always be the case – for me or others, but somehow it has and it can. It is a mystery and one of many. A garden, a tree, a child, the earth, life, responsibility – so mysterious and grand. Stay humble, little ones.
Secrets from Granny 