THE DUST WILL WAIT

I've scattered a little of me everywhere the past three months.  I've gardened a little.  Birded a little.  Traveled a little.  Grandmothered a little.  (Is that a word?)  Water colored a little.  Remodeled kitchens a little.  And I've improved my health a little. Obviously I've 'littled' way too much this season. The weeds still grow with gusto in our gardens.  I don't think the birds or bees really care about the ones that drive me crazy.    Here's a young hummingbird enjoying  the  'salvia hotlips' that we planted with the hummers in mind. Twice this summer I've been a farmer at my eldest daughter's.    This last time was when she and her husband took the eldest boy to college 6 hours away.  I made sure that all the creatures were cared for and her farm was not unattended.  On the first night  around 3 a.m.  I awoke to the loudest thunder I've ever experienced.  Not to...

Cemeteries were visited and flowers were placed on head stones this weekend.  One of the ones visited is very tiny and sits on a small rise surrounded by miles of agricultural land with fields of wheat, canola, and alfalfa. That is where my husband's late sister rests. The scent of alfalfa blooms waft in the breeze over the dusty markers inside a chain-link fence.  It isn't your normal manicured grave site.  It's just dirt. She began showing signs of something being not right soon after she turned 50.  We noticed that she couldn't remember the rules of our Saturday night card games.  Her symptoms progressed causing her to loose her job working for an accountant.  She tried working at lesser jobs, but she couldn't keep up with any of them.   She would ride her bike to the store and forget why she was there.  She might wake up in the morning and find all of her kitchen towels and oven mitts on her patio.  A difficult thing for us to...

On May 1, 2018 a 37-year old man dropped his two children off at school; the daughter in 8th grade and the son in kindergarten.  He drove towards home and waved at his 36 year old wife as she headed out for her job.   He made several more stops. He purchased some food items and some other specific things from the local super center. From there he drove to a park several miles away on the edge of wilderness area and proceeded to walk down to the river and perhaps back to his car.  Picking up his cell phone he sent several suicide texts to his wife.  She didn't see them until she got out of a hearing she was transcribing as the court reporter.  By that time, he had most likely followed the railroad tracks and turned south towards the  foothills of the Cascades where the trees began to shelter and hide other flora and fauna that thrive in the mountain greenery. That was the beginning of the 76 daze that our family struggled through in agony.  We ...

(Second Post about Paradise, CA and the Camp Fire) My brother and his wife have a 5-year old grand niece, Kaylin, who lost her "pink kitty" in the fire that swept through Paradise, CA on November 8. Kaylin and her family lost pretty much everything they owned, except for whatever they were able to throw in their vehicle before driving away. As the weeks headed toward Christmas, the little girl told her mama, Kristin, that she wanted "pink kitty" back from the old house for Christmas. Mama Kristin, daddy, grandpa and grandpa and other family members searched the internet and stores in Sacramento and Chico.   There was no match found for "pink kitty." Kristin decided to reach out on facebook. "I need a Christmas Miracle Please, " she wrote on the Facebook Page   Paradise Fire-Adopt A Family.   A blurry cropped background photo of "pink kitty" was attached to show readers the object of their search. Hundreds responded.  So ...

Paradise Story #3 Guest post by HolliAnne December 19, 2018 I went to Paradise by myself today.  I wasn't even planning to go to our house, but I found myself turning the steering wheel to go down that old familiar road again. I sat in the driveway staring at our chimney, not really sure why I was there. My legs took me out of the car and over to the corner of the house that had held my "little" library. I looked down at my feet and it was like something out of a movie.  A page from a book, singed and wet, but surprisingly legible. I bent down and my heart skipped a beat.  It was a page from my favorite trilogy of poetry. The Torch-Bearers. I've been kicking myself for weeks for not grabbing my complete, signed collection of poetry books by my favorite author, Alfred Noyes.  My husband teases me for reading hundred-year-old English poetry, but I love this guy's writing! The words that jumped out to me immediately are from the first vol...

Ron had just stepped into the shower after 7 a.m. on that Thursday morning in November.  He's in pretty good shape for being 83, and his wife Kay is a "much younger" active and sharp lady.  (Nine years!)     Kay heard their names being called on the stairs of the house they shared with her sister and brother in law.  They live on the upper level, and the other couple on the lowest level.  They shared the main floor kitchen and great room.  It                                                                                      was a good arrangement. Meg's voice signaled alarm so Kay responded quickly. "I can see a fire, and the wind is blowing this way. " Meg called out. "I think we need to get dressed and grab our important things and...

When I was a very small child my mama would  tell me about Titus Travis.  He was a soldier, she would say, and he fought in the revolutionary war.   "We are Daughters of the American Revolution," she always added proudly.  She never had the time, the energy, nor the resources available to pursue a membership in the woman's group, but it was always apparent to me that she would have under the right circumstances.  About 10 years ago I decided to find out more about this man and his wife, Elizabeth, of whom I am an 8th generation descendant.  (My brother Mike also got the genealogy bug and he continues to follow leads on so many of our long gone relatives.) This past year I brought my information to the Columbia River Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) which culminated in my membership being confirmed just a few weeks ago. DAR is a non-profit women's service organization and "an inclusive geological society." ...

There hasn't been a dog in residence for over 10 years now.  In dog years, that is a life time. Many times I get that little pinge in my heart when I'm out walking and stop to pet another walker's furry friend.  Most of my neighbors have dogs that are the recipients of the doggy treats we keep in the garage for just that occasion.  Oh yes!  Lots of scratches behind their ears and baby talk. It is easy to get a "fix" of doggy love at my middle daughter's house.  They got a puppy last summer  - some kind of a fox terrier, Jack Russel, and Pomeranian mix.  "Mugsy" has ears that stick up and make him appear much taller.  He is a blur when he runs, and he can jump up and peak over things that gives one the impression that he is on a trampoline.   For some reason he has decided I am  his long lost mother.  I have to meet him by the door because he gets so excited that he goes potty.  Then he bounces and yips  and won't stop...

It was 1990, and my nephew Matt was in love. It’s a love story that needs to be told. But, not today. No. This story is about a brisk October night in Arkansas. A short story that, 22 years later, still has enough chill to send shivers down your back. The kind of story that finds its way into conversations when family gets together and someone always asks, do you remember when….. Matt took a year off of college to work as a park ranger at Camp Yorktown Bay. Angel, the love of his life, lived in Arkansas and that was where he wanted to be – close to her. On a weekend off  Matt would drive three hours up Highway 7 , a scenic byway that is flagged by the State's Tourism promotions. However, the often late night runs would emphasize the curves and the dark lonely miles through forests and mountains that were only illuminated by occasional habitations. The aging ‘78 Toyota Corolla that took him on each journey had belonged to his parents, and it had a puzzling problem with the e...

I wrote these thoughts several years ago ---  and I thought they were appropriate for this Veterans Day.   Three of our grandchildren’s dad is in the Air Force. (He has served in Iraq twice. He is no longer my son-in law. However, those little faces that I love, love him.) Alex, you are in my prayers. Prior to our meeting, my husband served four years in the late sixties as a submariner. His dress whites are in a storage box. Pictures of his “Boats” hang at the end of the hallway. Hubby, you were a handsome sailor. I love you. The army drafted my youngest brother, a conscientious objector, about the same year that my future husband signed. I was in high school and cried as he reported for duty and climbed into the waiting bus. The nightly news was all about Vietnam. Nick was one of the lucky ones who stayed in the States. He never carried a gun, but served in a medic position. He became a respiratory therapist after his stint was complete.  Bil...

I don't have a favorite photo.  But Faye, acting on her duty as Fun Monday Host, asked that we share our favorite old family photo.  So here I am and this is the one I have chosen. The one above is a favorite family photo from when I was a little girl. Favored because my mom, dad, and all my brothers and sisters were together for the pose. In the upper left is my sister Nelda who died from leukemia in 1994. She was always beautiful.  The two oldest brothers, Ron and Tom, are wearing identical suits.  No. They are not twins. Interestingly, they appear much the same today. They look pretty fantastic in their suits at the ages of 74 and 75. My sister Sandra is wearing a dress that I loved.  She is also wearing a Lauren Bacall expression. Today, Sandra is my favorite breast cancer survivor! And, she still has that Bacall attitude! On the lower left, Mike has a mischievous grin on his face and I suspect he is poking Trish in the back of her best blue dress...

Today I sifted through some memorabilia that we stored in boxes over the years, following the death of parents and grandparents.  I am working on a project and I’m looking for a particular old newspaper clipping.  I failed to find the object of my search because I was sidetracked by headlines from The Portland News: BANDIT BUSY AT NOON . My husbands grandmother wasn’t concerned about a robbery on that October day in 1930.  Rather, she was the proud Mama of a little girl whose pose on a tricycle graced the spot under the headlines. Thrift With a Smile.   That is my late Mother-in-law, Joan (When she grew older she insisted that it be pronounced Jo Ann.)  She was a very pretty child who grew up to be a a strikingly pretty woman.   She had a bronzed copy of this photo that sat in her living room for all to see.  I’m not sure what became of her cherished item.  Her daughter (my sister in law) may have claimed it – an unfortunate occurrence, a...

The news program this morning featured stories about the children in Haiti.   It answered some of my questions about why so many people seemed to have burns on their faces and arms.   The earthquake hit while many people gathered together cooking and eating meals.  The stories are overwhelming, but the small miracles keep one watching and listening.  There was also a recall announced for Tylenol which gave me some alarm.  Ever since Thanksgiving, I practically bathed in the extra-strength capsules, along with an anti-inflammatory.  I’ve been in a  toothache battle.  My dentist is not one that overreacts.  The X-rays didn’t show any reason for my pain and he hoped that the anti inflammatory would do the trick.  On Monday morning this week the dentist took a third X-ray that revealed something ominous.  My immediate referral to an Endodontist on Wednesday was a bust.  The tooth cannot be saved.  The Endo prescrib...

My fingers are freezing as I type this. I just ran outside and removed as many leaves as I could from the tiny man-made creek that runs into the pond. A few days ago WR stated that he hoped the wind would blow all the leaves off the neighbor’s maple trees - and he got his wish. He even got a better gift with it. Many of those leaves blew over our fence and beyond. However, we still get to keep the ones that hit the water. Every autumn we are surprised. I remember several years ago having our grandkids help us rake leaves when they visited over the Thanksgiving holiday. I remember having a few brave roses thumbing their petals even into December. We always know that eventually winter will arrive, but never how or when we expect it. So is it we are surprised with the insidious creeping of Alzheimer’s in my sister-in-law’s life. This morning I need to wolf down my coffee and cereal and rush out the door. I am supervising the movers who come to haul her furniture and belongings to a...

Ari, from Beyond My Slab , is the hostess of this week's Fun Monday, and has chosen a topic that gives me immense pleasure:  Old Things. Other than dust, I have nothing in my house more weathered and aged than Augusta's photo album.  I wrote about my great grandmother   (Augusta, Grace, Evelyn, Me) this summer. She was born in 1855 and died in 1937.     I can only guess when she acquired it. I like to think that she was a young teen when she chose to include a photo of the late President Lincoln.  Some other printed photos may be of other famous people of that era. My glasses give you an idea of the album's dimensions. The leather binding is embossed.  It is in dire need of gentle repair.  I have no idea how much that will cost. Note the interesting clasp.  The other one is in worse condition. Do you want to see the inside? Below are tin types of Augusta, her fi...

When I hear other people talk about time they spent with their grandparents, I feel deprived. I never met three of my grandparents, and Grandma Grace was somewhat feeble minded by the time I was old enough to know her. It never crossed my mind in the my early years to sit down and ask her questions about her life and her family. I even failed to get my parents stories. Now, I humor myself by seeking information through family photos, Internet ancestry sites, and hobnobbing with my brother Mike. He has spent hours and hours searching out distant relatives and constructing a family tree. Great Grandmother Augusta ( Augusta, Grace, Evelyn, Me) is one who intrigues me. I have possession of her personal photo album, which has tin types and some regular photos of her parents, her husbands, and her babies.   She was born May 16, 1855 somewhere in the state of New York. Pictures of her as a young woman indicate she had thick and...

My late father-in-law joined the Navy in June of 1943. World War II was raging and the young man knew his country needed him. He was three months short of his 18th birthday when his mom reluctantly signed the parental consent. Fortunately, he kept his promise to her and came home in one piece. Like most of the veterans from the Greatest Generation, Dad had not been one to share the events of his war service. Nor had he discussed his feelings and thoughts in our presence. I will never forget that day when he let down his guard. * * * * It was July of 1999 and I invited my husbands extended family to celebrate the 4th of July with us at a barbecue in our back yard. "Dad" was in the 28th year of his fourth marriage. He'd been a father to his step-daughter and step-son ... something he'd not been allowed to do with his own two children. I called him several weeks before the eve...