BOUNCE FROM OREGON TO MURPHYS.

It has been long between blogs. I find when I'm busy, I'm really an activist at heart and am inspired to rant about the current incomprehensible political situation, which Jim dislikes.  I have not been traveling!  So I rant. Jim reminded me this morning it has been a year to the day (yesterday) since I left the motorhome and took up the business of building a new house and all that transpires both expected and unexpected.

While in Oregon, I got news of the awful Butte Fire from that distance, chagrined that my friend Deborah Mullen,  a co-worker at the Calaveras Enterprise, was burned out. A devastating experience.
Today, after clearing through pounds of mail, I gathered clothing, shoes, tables, chairs, jackets, and stuff you think people will need in the aftermath of a complete loss of everything of a normal household. Deborah posted a picture on FB  of herself and Husband Steve; "We have each other," she said. Always one to look on the bright side.

After connecting with several recovery, resource sights, it became very clear that the stuff I gathered was not what is needed right now. It is more on the order, of paper plates, paper towels, face soap, q-tips, wash cloths,  canned foods, powdered milk, peanut butter, fresh vegetables, flashlights, lanterns, batteries, ice chests, water carriers and so on. So, tomorrow, I'll assemble a different set of household goods,and make my way to Mountain Ranch, then Valley Springs where daughter-in-law Laurie is holding much of my important paperwork taken at my request from my house during the voluntary evacuation order. I'll start carrying my camera again, if I can find it.

My last day in Oregon, I went to a bridge repair meeting and met some neighbors from the private road we share, many of whom,  I'd never met previously.
I also invited 12 people to a wine and nibble about 4 p.m. Saturday,  before my expected leave on Sunday morning. I thought some of the neighbors might be curious about what my place looked like after watching the slow progress from the outside over eight months of building it.

Hmmm. Four people showed up, three from one family. All but  four answered with some enthusiasm, suggesting they'd be glad to come.
I thoroughly enjoyed those that came.  I'm not a novice at entertaining guests, but I've never been so royally stood up in my life, and it makes me chuckle that I've had that experience at this time in my life. If I were a young bride, I'd have been hurt. Not one person bothered to tell me they could not or would not come. I thought it was strange but those that came,  more than made up for those that did not.
It has been fun furnishing a new house, with nearly all second-hand items and attempting to keep it neat and not over clutter it with stuff as I am wont to do.  I'll eventually get pictures hung and curtains up and take photos; my goal to hopefully find this page a bit more often.

ciao-Mary

WE ARE OF OUR TIME.

I love museums and enjoy looking back at how people once lived, the tools they used, the buildings they built the things they cherished. As we move around the countryside, we take pictures of what surrounds us that tells it's own tale of how we live, for we are of our time.  An old rye harvester was in yesterday's blog, but look at this modern jack hammer. The job of breaking up cement was once handled by a man wresting with a machine that shook his muscles and bones to extremes.

The fine china of yesterday's blog put me in mind of this toilet from the Nugget Hotel in Reno.
It is as ostentatious and beautiful as the Burnie china.

People lived in mansions, shanty boats, falling down shacks and plain houses. Now, it isn't unusual to find someone living in their car and trailer as this full-time friend of ours does. Full time RVers living on the road, Address Unknown,  are estimated to be a million.  The homeless live in tents, shacks, or as squatters all over the U.S. and we've met some of them, too, especially through Randy Vinings Blog, a former preacher who seeks them out to tell their stories.
http://mobilecodgers.blogspot.com/

Remember those black leather button up shoes of yesteryear?  Obviously more practical then this extreme example of our time. They had extremes in their own way. Extremely restrictive and repressive, especially of women.

Swimwear for men is different, and sports are more varied and adventurous.

We live in a time where long hair is less common than days of old when no woman cut her hair. But, this is of our time, we are accepted both ways.

We express very publicly our sorrows, by nailing teddy bears to a pole near where a child was killed by a car; or place crosses and artificial flowers on the roadside where a friend was killed. We express our joy similarly, with yellow ribbons around a tree, or support causes with bumper stickers or ribbons on the windows of our cars.

We miniature everything, not only furnishings in doll houses, but real scientific instruments, like this robotic mosquito that can inject poison or medicine at a directed target.

At one time pets were domesticated for their usefulness; they herded cattle, helped hunt, sounded an alarm. Today they have even more useful functions as police dogs, in medicine and leading the blind. They've also become essential companions and much loved members of the family and are dressed and coddled as children are. My neighbor, Kristi, refers to them as "fur children".

We are environmentalists. We attempt to keep our world clean, our rivers healthy, our air unpolluted, our resources renewable.  Not that we always succeed, everywhere. Years ago, conservation was the by word; it only referred to conserving resources. We of our time have surpassed that simple goal.

Sculpture was once limited to cement, plaster, bronze or steel. Today, anything goes. A yarn cab represents what creative creatures we are. Inventive, adventurous, creative, joyful, imaginative. We live our lives fully. We are of our time.