Postcard hike

We found a new hike. It leds to an area that can only be described as a photo opportunity. It was a ramble that had many dimensions. In addition to great vistas, we came across an area that held about a half an acre of blooming black berry bushes. Hundreds of Monarch butter flies were feeding on the blossoms. I have never seen so many flutter bys in one spot! Later on the walk, we watched otters as they sunned themselves. They entwine themselves in kelp to keep themselves afloat.  I have to wonder where they hid out during the recent storms.  Great piles of kelp ended up on shore ~ ripped from their moorings during the high winds of recent storms.  Local pines were not the only vegetation to suffer the affects of the high winds!

We look forward to sharing the walk with family and friends.  Candy, see you soon!

Gordon et.al.

Otto

This is Otto.  He greets us when we return home to our Cambria digs.  After long talks, I've learned that he is terribly lonesome.  So, I'm trying to find a buddy to join him.  He and Moose do not seem to have much in common.  Moose lives for walks.  I'm not too sure Otto lives ~ let alone walks. ;-)

Rained all day yesterday ~ one point one inches of the stuff.  But today the skies have been washed clean and are as blue as blue can be.  Hopefully, we can return to the "state land" and do some serious beach combing.  Last time, after the big storm, I found a beautiful intact abalone shell ~ my best yet.

One thing about the rain, the country side is really green.  I bought a wild chanterelle mushroom at the farmer's market last Friday.  I made a sauce to go on our steak.  It was really good if I must say so myself.  They are growing wild on the hill sides around the house.  But, I don't have the guts to pick them myself.  I'm afraid I'd poison my bride and myself.  (By the way, you should have seen me trying to spell "chanterelle".  Ain't no logic to the way its spelled!)  With all this moisture, we have mushrooms growing everywhere.

Hope all is well on the home fronts.

Gordon, et. al.

p.s. Congrats to Brandon on his spelling bee success.  His mother and I stand in awe of his ability.  When I was a kid, I absolutely hated spelling bees.  To this day I hate sitting for long periods of time!

Reading notes

For the younger of us here and for the non-farm type readers of the blog, some reading notes of explanation may be in order. Following the comments below I will provide some explanations from us "old types". Some of the stuff is self explanatory. Candy and Mike feel free to chime in.

The hand pump for water by the kitchen sink or on the back porch, the old catalog saved for the outhouse, the coal bucket by the kitchen stove, the big tub for Saturday night baths, the slop bucket on the back porch, Swimming in the big ditch after threshing all day.  Aunt Ju-Ju(Mrs.Linse)Best cook/baker in the valley. lunch in the field at harvest time, chores, first TV 1951-1 channel-,4:00pm/10:00pm

MotorVu.........more later
  
If we were really lucky cabbage rolls and cinnamon rolls.

Icicles the size of my arm hanging from the roof to the ground in front of the living room windows.
Baby lambs we fed with coke bottles.
Gathering eggs at Aunt Ju-Ju's.
Sis
Teaching those new calves to suck and damn near bit your fingers off- an old mad setting hen, eating wormy apples, Martins "smoke house" homemade sausage(old coal shed. & getting into his homemade wine in the basement. Football on the lawn. Rodeos when the parents were gone.
Hauling water for the house cistern

In "the beginning" we didn't have running water. If lucky, the kitchen had a hand pump that pumped water from the cistern. Otherwise the hand pump was located in some other not so convenient place such as the back porch. A cistern was necessary because the farms in the Yellowstone valley could not use the water wells they drilled because the water was "alkaline", i.e. you couldn't drink it. So, the water had to be hauled from town and placed in cisterns. Californians really don't know the meaning of conserving water. Back then if you used too much water in your parent's view, they kicked your hind end. I'm not sure when all the plumbing, electricity etc came together. But I do remember Aunt Julia and Uncle Martin finally getting an indoor bathroom. It was really a big deal even though we still had to conserve water.

Aunt Julia was known to all as Aunt JuJu. Little kids had a hard time pronouncing Julia. They could get the Ju out but the rest just didn't seem to follow. So JuJu it became to one and all. She was the older daughter of John and Helena Kinsfather. Grandma Helena had to spend long periods of time in the mental institution in Warm Springs for severe depression (something that probably would be treatable in this day and age). The house keeping chores thus fell to the older female child, Aunt Julia. Not only did she end up being the "responsible one" she ended up being the best cook "in the valley" at least in our view. She was of the tasty and large volume school of the culinary arts! Threshing crew dinners were "a thing to behold!" I'm sure some of the threshing crew members would have worked for the dinners alone.

Slop buckets were present on all farms ~ the original green waste idea. All eatable by-products of the kitchen were thrown into the slop bucket. The slop bucket would then be lugged out to the pig pen and fed to the pigs (or chickens). Those pigs could eat anything, bones, fat, orange peels, lemon peels, coffee grounds, you name it. Recycle was not a concept. It was a fact. At the dairy, my mom had what turned out to be a pet hog. She named her Sally ~ Sally the hog. Most hogs are marketed at about 200 pounds. Sally weighted well over 400 pounds before Mom finally gave approval for her to be slaughtered. Mom actually cried when they hauled Sally away. To the day she died, I think mom felt she betrayed Sally. Not so sure I didn't feel the same way.

To get calves to drink milk from a bucket you had to place your hand in the milk in the bucket and let the calf suck on your fingers until they got the idea that they could drink the milk on their own. Some times the suck became a bite. Hurt like Hell. Sometimes the suction got so high you thought your hand plus arm was going to go down their throat. Sometimes it was hard just to "break" the vacuum from the suction!

Our touch football games in Aunt JuJu's front year were legendary. Young and old played. Time was spent choosing up sides trying to balance the young-old factor and the ability factor, but not much time. The greatest skill possessed by all of the players was the ability to avoid stepping in the chicken shit left by Aunt JuJu's flock of free roaming chickens. Sometimes that was next to impossible when avoiding a "touch" at a full run. The worst of all situations was when in the later part of the game the touch game became a tackle game and you were tackled in a big glob of chicken shit. It still runs shivers up and down my spine. We didn't always have a change of clothes! This is where Mike and I learned the broken field running skills that we used later in organized football at the high school and college level.   Mike must have been a better chicken shit runner because he was better at football than me!  He also could throw rocks better than me!!

In our early youth, house insulation was pretty much non-existent.  Hence, our house at the dairy had "no" insulation in the attic.  The heat from what heating sources we had, (basically a fireplace, a wood burning cook stove, and an old oil burner), would go up and out the roof.  This created huge ice dams and huge icicles ~  icicles that reached the ground and even crept along the ground.  I remember the winters as being pretty bad.  But, I don't think we ever gave it a second thought.  That was just the way it was.

Our privite swimming pool when we were young was "the big ditch" or the BL&I ditch.  The ditches were rather large, i.e. probably 10 to 20 yards wide.  I learned how to swim in "moving water" when my cousins Roy and Bob threw me off of the bridge into the ditch.  They yelled, "just paddle, the current will carry you to shore."  By golly,  they were right.  I made it.  My heart was in my throat but I learned quickly how to "swim".  The ditch was not always the cleanest of places to swim.  I remember one time when a dead sheep floated by.  We just calmly got out and let it go by before we dove back in.  I also remember how cool the water was after a long, hot, and work filled day in the field. 

Gordon, et. al.

When I visit the back corners of my life

When I visit the back corners of my life again after so long a time, littlest things jump out first.  The oilcloth, tiny blue windmills on white squares, worn to colorless smears at our four places at the kitchen table.  Our father's pungent coffee, so strong it was almost ambulatory, which he gulped down from suppertime until bedtime and then slept serenely as a sphinx.  The pesky wind, the one element we could count on at Marias Coulee, whistling into some weather-cracked cranny of this house as if invited in. (The Whistling Season, Ivan Doig, A Harvest Book, Hartcourt, Inc., New York, NY, 2006)

I am a big fan of Ivan Doig.  He is a Montanan (although he nows lives in Seattle.  But that's OK.  I live in Spokane!).  He writes about White Surflur Springs, the Crazy Mountains, ranch life, ranch people, love of place~ truly home country  for me.  He brings back memories of times gone by.  Times gone by in so many ways, i.e. coal cook stoves, pot belly stoves, out door johns, and memories.

The above quote is the first paragraph of his novel The Whistling Season.  I was reminded of the common thought that the first sentence of a novel has to be a "grabber".  I remember Snoopy changing the classic opening line of "it was a dark and stormy night" to "he was a dark and stormy knight".  The importance of the opening sentence always stuck with me.  Hence, my love of Doig's opening sentence "When I visit the back corners of my life again after so long a time, littlest things jump out first."  We all have back corners of our lives.  And, the littlest things jump out first.  The sentence immediately set me to thinking.  I guess its my age.

I challenge you in the comment section of this blog to complete the thought process of  "When I visit the back corners of my life again after so long a time, littlest things jump out first".   Label the corner of your life.  I will start the process.

Kitchen at the Dairy

When I visit the back corners of my life again after so long a time, littlest things jump out first.   A black wood burning kitchen stove with loaves of bread rising on the chrome fronted back shelves ~ if we were lucky, cabbage rolls.  A one half pound coffee can filled with bacon grease awaiting duty call on another stove shelf.  A kitchen table covered with a red and white checkered oilcloth, sugar bowl, depression glass salt and pepper shackers neatly in place.  The ever present designer glass of peanut butter - mom was saving for a full set!  The occassional bawl of a day-old calf coming from the back porch where dad had placed the calf (often times with other "warming" calves) hoping that it would recover from the frigid cold of a late spring snow.  And, the ever present faint smell of cow manure.  The sweet smell of success as my father used to say.  I will not repeat what my mother used to say.

OK your turn.  Don't let me down!  These essays will be graded on the "curve". 

I "give"

OK!  I Give up!  It hasn't stopped raining in 36 hours and the "power" has been off for 33 hours.  It went off at 8 a.m. yesterday and just came back on at 5p.m this afternoon.  The wind yesterday knocked down trees all around us.   It has been raining off and on since we got here last Friday.  So....enough already.

We really enjoyed Zion.  More later.

Hope all is well.

Gordon, et.al.

Storms

I remember in the early 80's when we first arrived in Cheney my friend John Ford and his family would travel every March to the Oregon coast to watch the storms come on to shore from the Pacifc.  He loved it.  I wondered about his sanity.  "What could be so much fun about watching a dang rain storm?", I thought.  Well, now I know.  Great fun!!  Over the last couple of days we have watched a couple of storms hit the coast off of Cambria.  First the wind then the storm slams into the coastal area.  Rain in sheets.  High winds with howling sound.  The sound of huge waves hitting the shore line.  All the senses engaged.  Including the loss of electricty.  From 12 noon to 12:30 last night we had no power.  Had to read by candle light.  At 12:30 we awoke to every light in the house being on!  We had to spend fifteen minutes figuring out where all the switches were.  I think Rose and I tried every light in the house during the outage to see if we had lights yet.  I guess we should have turned them off during that process!  :-)  Oh well, another lesson learned.

This morning the sounds are marvelous ~ the wind and the high surf ~ as we prepare for yet another storm.  The "big one" is supposed to hit tomorrow - Wednesday.  I can hardly wait.  Sprinkles of rain are starting as I write this blog.

The Raven visited us as we viewed an area in Bryce Canyon National Park.  He reminded me of Ron Raven at the cabin.  After I fed him Orange pieces, he and I became fast buddies.  Ravens and Eagles are special.  I can see the attachment that the native americans had to them.  I think I would prefer to belong to the Raven clan ~ less war like and more sly/craftie like.  The little tuft of grass above the Raven's head makes it look like he has a halo ~ much like mine.  :-)

Gordon et. al.

p.s. No longer sprinkles.  It's raining like crazy.  Here we go again.  Let her rip!!!  I feel like I'm on a bareback bronco.

p.s.s.  Guess what?  The lights went out for about 15 minutes then came back on so I can post this blog!!

Brad Visit

Brad at sunrise.  He actually wanted to stand on the water.  But, I said, "no".

Rose comtempting, that's one big stickie thingie.

Brad's thinking, "Look at me.  I have square shoulders just like Uncle Charles."

Note Moose wondering if he can pee on that thing without hurting himself.

Rock to north east of Brad's place.  He calls it praying puppy.

Rose saying, that's one big tummy, boy.

Cambria

We made it!  We arrived at about 1:00 p.m. this afternoon.  Settled in ~ in time for a trip to the farmer's market.  We are set for awhile. 

The house is the best yet.  The furnishing are really nice ~ four bedrooms, great views, wi-fi.  Just really great.

Will post pictures soon.  Can hardly wait to share it with family and friends. That's part of the reason we are down here.

Rose and I were really worn down by the desert scene.  The grey and sameness just got to us especially after traveling through Needles, Barstow, etc. after being in Arizona for several days.  Give me the green of Cambria.  Once I saw the hills and Oak trees on the West side of Paso Robles, my heart soared like a hawk!!  And then to see the great farmer's market with fresh everything! 

Post more later.  Hope all is well.

Dad, et. al.

p.s. We put 2720 miles on the Blazer!  Saw a lot of country.  And sand and rock.  :-)

Barstow, California

We are in Barstow California on our way to Cambria.  We should be in Cambria in time for the farmer's market tomorrow afternoon.  We will be glad to see "green".  The desert is getting to us.  We need plants and green stuff.

We have really had a good time with Brad in his new home and with Ed and Nancy in their fifth wheel in Benson Arizona.  But, we are ready to have our own digs and eat our own recipes!

Hope all is well on the home front.  Leave comments so I know how everybody is!!!

Dad, et.al.

Kanab, Utah

We are in Kanab ~ safe and warm.  57 degrees at one point today in Zion Park.  We went to both Zion park and Bryce Canyon park today.  I liked Zion much more than Bryce.   I would go back to Zion not to Bryce.  Such vistas in Zion!   Solid rock like I've never seen.

Tomorrow we motor to Carefree.  We will be with Brad Saturday through Tuesday.  Then on to Ed and Nancy's.

Dad, et. al

Watching game now.  Not much of a game at this point.  Texas ain't Texas without the real McCoy.

Beaver, Utah

Yep, we're in Beaver, Utah.  Didn't know they had beavers in Utah.  Today Zion and Brice Canyon.  Tomorrow the world.  Weather in 40's.  Getting close.

Dad, et.al.

Dillon, Montana

We made it as far as Dillion, Montana ~ about 350 miles from Spokane.  Why do we always leave in a blizzard?  From lookout pass to about Deer Lodge it was terrible.  We had intermittent rain and snow pretty much all the way.  Rose was exhausted by the time we got to deer lodge from giving me directions and/or warnings of impeding perils, such as ice on bridge, speed limits, water puddles, etc.!!  Moose did fine.

Tis 6:00 Pacific time.  We are fed and watching the Georgia Tech/Iowa game - at least I am. ;-)   Bed time
early tonight.

Dad et. al.

p.s. how about that Boise State/TCU game!!

4K story

During the 1950's we lived on dairy farm that Dad purchased while he managed the 4K dude ranch.  I guess he figured he and his family didn't have enough to do!  The dairy was located about a half a mile off of the main road.  Between the main road and the farm, one had to pass through a cattle pasture owned by the Orr ranch.  The Orr's raised registered Black Angus cattle ~ one of the first ranches in the area to do so.  Most of the cattle during this period of time were Hereford's.  Now a days, Angus seem to dominate the cattle scene. 

During the spring of the year the Orr's would put paired calves and cows into the pasture after they had been calved on the main ranch.  "Mothering cows" can be pretty crankie as their protective instincts kick in ~ as my little sister found out.  During her first year of grade school, Candy had to ride the school bus back from Absarokee to home.  On the morning commute she rode with her big brothers in the family pickup to school.  After school I had practices for various sports.  Therefore, she usually took the 32 mile trip back home on the bus by herself.  The school bus would drop her off on the main road.  Then Candy would walk the remaining distance to the dairy.  Our family will always remember her furious retort one night at the dinner table when she exclaimed, "I am so sick of those dang black Amos's.  They chase me home every night.  Some one has to start picking me up!"  From that day forward we always referred to black Angus cattle as black Amos cattle. 

An interesting facet to this story is that it was just assumed that at six years of age Candy would make the 32 mile bus trip and the one half mile walk home "on her own."  ~ let alone that a mother cow would escort her home every evening by running her out of the pasture!  I have visions to this day of this little girl running and broad jumping a cattle guard with a momma cow in hot pursuit ~ her little cowboy boots just a pumping.!  :-)

Another facet to this story is that Candy was quite the talker when she was six years old.  She would talk from the beginning of the ride to school in the morning until we reached school.  Brad and I would often threaten to let her out along side the road and let her find her own way to school if she didn't shut up . One morning we actually stopped, let her out of the car,  and drove off a hundred yards or so before letting her back in the car.  She still wouldn't shut up!  She wasn't frightened.  She was pissed.  What's amazing is that she really isn't that much of a talker now.

I have fond memories of the dairy. That dairy convinced me that I needed a college education.  Gosh how I hated milking cows.  Every sense of my being, from smell to touch, screamed, "you gotta get out of here?"  And, I did by golly.  Although, there were days while teaching young college students that the dairy started looking mighty good.

Gordon et. al.