A WEEK IN OREGON.

Decisions were needed on my building project in Oregon. Doug was working on the first coat of primer when I arrived on Friday the 13th, after a five hour drive. Cement doesn't soak up paint as easily as wood. Weather is cool and damp, but luckily no rain.

Doug declined my invitation to take him out for dinner but promised me he'd be dragging my butt out at 6:30 a.m. to pick out paint colors at Home Depot. Headed for the hotel, I stopped at the VFW where they were celebrating Valentines Day with a special dinner of Cornish game hens and a luscious, chocolate cherry dessert. They invited me to stay since a couple of reservations had canceled.

Making new friends, and a toast to Valentines. The Rogue River Post is very active and supportive of their vets. Two young men from Rogue are serving on foreign soil and they've adopted their whole unit, sending cookies and letters from home.

Saturday was Valentines day and we left Home Depot with the wrong color paint. I picked  sunshine yellow, she wrote right under the paint swatch, the formula, but she had mixed the color beneath it, something called Terra Sol. We were asleep at the switch and didn't realize the mistake until we went to open the can. We decided to live with it since she might get fired over 20 gallons of oops paint. At lunch I picked up some yoghurt, chips and fruit at Ray's Market. A woman and child were handing out Valentines to every one. What a smile starter. Later, I found a heart shaped pebble on the ground near my building. Sweet.

Catching up with neighbors, Jenny & Phil. Phil is always surrounded by his fur children.

Jenny was preparing to go horseback riding. New horses since my last visit.

She has a paint looking pony. A new breed called gypsy.  While there, Jenny recommended the local Tarassco's fish tacos.

Every restaurant in town was loaded on Valentines day. A forty-five minute wait for a pizza. I went home with my favorite dish from Tarassco's,  a take out bowl of Albondigo soup.  I had the fish tacos on Sunday. Everyone knows I'm a foodie.

The terra sol wasn't too bad. I made headway with bids on heating and air from three companies. Got a dumpster ordered. Picked out and ordered my cabinets and vanities at Lowes. Bought a new washer dryer that Lowes will hold until needed.

I painted as far up as I could reach on the trim. Doug was using the ladder.

I moved rocks and placed them in a circle around this lovely old tree in my front yard.

Doug had to open up the Tyvek for bidders to get inside the house. I swept and cleaned a bit inside knowing it will be even dustier when the sheet rockers get finished.  Doug loves to clown around. We had a good time, made a lot of progress.  I'll have to return when we ask for the electrician who is next in line after the heating an air guys do their preliminary, in the wall, install.

It was nice to see snow on Mt. Shasta. I couldn't resist yet another picture of this beautiful mountain.

ENDINGS.

The end of a paint job. Though, Laurie still has other rooms to finish.

The end of Mikey’s stuffed toy-soon. He loves them to death.

The end of work on the bronco and motor home. My bike reloaded on the back.

The end of our cool weather and pink sunsets. Jim read me the weather report.  From the sixties, the weather will turn cold;  40′s during the day, and 20′s and 30′s at night.
“I get out of here just in time,” declared Jim, the weather wimp. He misses the road. He is scheduled to leave at 10 a.m. Monday morning. The end of his stay as he heads south. First  Manteca, a stop in Bakersfield, then Palm Desert, which leads him to Yuma, snow bird country. I finished cleaning out the medicine cabinet and the spice drawer yesterday. We put sheets back on the bed. Doug will come up to install a shoe rack he built for the motor home. I will sort through books I want to take with me. I’ll load the new lightweight computer into the motor home, though, I’m having my doubts about carrying it back and forth, which was the objective. It was frustrating having stuff on one computer I couldn’t access from the other computer.  I fiddled with the new one  for hours last night and it takes two or three clicks to perform tasks in system 7, that take one click in Vista. I’ll load the computer and hope for the best;  forcing myself to use it on the road. Groan. It might have been smarter to carry a separate drive back and forth.

Jim doesn’t listen to popular radio with commercials but there is a song I like, “You’re going To Miss Me When I’m Gone.”  With us, the ending isn’t terribly long.  I’ll fly to meet him in January.

GETTING BEAUTIFUL.

This little doe comes to visit me each morning. She seems to know when I have the camera aimed at her and hides from me. My yard is Certified Wildlife Habitat, and between Karen and I, we’ve  seen every animal except a possum and a bear come to drink water. Cougars, bobcats, foxes, skunks, raccoons, squirrels, coyotes, dogs, cats, birds. Even bats and lizards. This low water year, the water in my pond, and other vessels,  needs to be replenished every other day, which Karen does.

I’m coming at my subject a bit sideways, here, but Jim brought this beautiful hammock all the way from Central America. It has hung between a couple of trees for the last two summers and a squirrel came down the tree and chewed part of the threads. Sorry, Jim. I was pretty amazed at that. She  chewed some of the support strings as well. I don’t blame the squirrel. I’m sure she is nest-building.  Red tail hawks decimated my squirrel population a while back and this one has moved in to begin a new generation.

I’m always bragging about Murphys being such a nice place to live, with its beautiful park with a creek running through it. But, San Andreas has a beautiful Turner Park too, with multiple entrances and areas to enjoy because it runs along a small creek. I met friends yesterday, with whom I worked at the Calaveras Enterprise in the 1980′s  and was reminded of the wholesome community we share. Dedicated park volunteers were blowing debris and picking up stuff people leave behind when I got there. How cool is that?

This cute elephant bridge leads to a playground for the kids. Part of why this is such a great place to live is the huge body of volunteerism that makes places  like this possible for everyone.

Sue Walker has a new last name since we met at this same spot last year. I was surprised my friends knew about my accident on May 27th.  We spent an hour playing catch-up while we ate our bag lunch.

We manage our visit in an hour since Deborah Mullen comes from work during her lunch time.  I heard that our former editor, Sandy Lema died while I was on the road, and I forgot to ask them if that was correct?

That hour went by way too fast!  I’m going to make an effort to get home earlier next year to attend the main event. We grabbed one of the friendly park volunteers to take our picture before we parted.

This is a group photo of Enterprise staffers from Reunion 2011.
After leaving the park, I had some blood work done and then went to the beauty shop to get my hair cut. I reminded Sue, who was cutting my hair, that the purpose of a beauty salon is make people beautiful.

I thought she did a pretty good job, don’t you?

Then I stopped in Angels Camp to visit my friend Linda Foster. She is painting her house and needs help deciding what color to choose.

The picture doesn’t show all of her possible choices.  But, I think it was more than nine.  Decisions, decisions. And you know?  She didn’t even notice my beautiful new look? The older we get, the harder it is to get beautiful.

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

That old song has many ramifications, but at home, its a myriad of tasks. Spring chores and spring cleaning have always been a pleasure for me. Getting up on the roof, uncovering the swamp coolers, hosing pollen off the solar panels, blowing the leaves off the roof, feels good. I don't enjoy cleaning gutters or rattling the chains in the chimney. Planning and planting a garden have always been high on the list.  In the house, taking curtains down, washing windows, cleaning fan blades, and in general, refreshing everything and maybe changing the furniture around, puts a spring in my step.
None of those things happened this year. Not only was the rain incessant, the weeds tall enough to cover the windows, and my time at home temporary, but I've passed into another life, ramblin' in a Motor Home. My friends and family don't really understand that I've discovered the benefits of living small, and seeing it all.

Even so, its was nice to get the ceiling repaired and repainted.

It took two days to vanquish the weeds and chop down trees threatening to fall. Everything had to be done between the storms.

 Instead of helping,  I spent my time playing cards with my sister and brother who don't visit very often.

  It makes sense to concentrate on the important things like the wonderful new card game, Quiddler, and company. The rains are coming back tomorrow and I'm in no hurry to do battle with the elements. Must be time to squeeze in a gathering of the neighbors. 

DAUGHTER OF A BARBARIAN

Barbarian, Bill W.K. Mollett collected 8,000 pieces of barbed wire in his lifetime. Bill always had a story to tell and loved the West. He recognized that barbed wire signified the end of the "Old" West, its open range, itinerant wranglers. These remnants are a reminder of the cowpunchers who fenced their land. Much barbed wire was home made and each rancher's fence was identifiable like their brand. Old timers say, "bob wire" and there is a "bobbed" wire bible identifying different types of wire and the men who patented them.
Bill's daughter Chrys and I walked her garden and talked "bob wire" for an hour or two and in the photos you will see wire that looks like rick-rack, crochet, strands of yard, twisted hooks and barbs of every imaginable angle. And the names, can you identify the piece called Brinkerhof Belt Buckle Splicer? It was patented by J. Brinkerhoff, May 17, 1881? Below it is Glidden Hog Wire, Extra Long Barbs, patented by J.F. Glidden, Nov. 24, 1874. Yes, that is Glidden, the man who went on to open paint stores that still carry his name today. On one board, Chrys points to a space that mounts a stone.
In collecting, you had to have a piece 18 inches long for it to qualify for showing. Bill mounted the strands on boards and recorded the type and patent, if one existed, on the back of the board.
Chrys and I enjoyed reminiscing about her dad who wore a wide brimmed hat with a band of barbed wire for a hat band. He was known as the Barbarian of Calaveras County.