After our trip to Boise last weekend (April 18-19), we had a nice open week and thought we’d spend some days at the farm. However, the weather didn’t cooperate. It was a week of unsettled weather with those “widely scattered showers.” Sometimes we had rain from those clouds and sometimes the rain fell elsewhere.
But – we stayed at the town house and accomplished tasks that were tedious and difficult. We washed windows inside and out and then we weeded and planted more drought-tolerant perennials. Mike located and repaired the leak on the back side of the lot – easier said than done, I assure you.
But some nice things happened because we were here and available. Mike and another member of the cycling club discovered that they had corresponding bicycle interests so they traded bike frames and Mike is now in the process of building another bike. He found that he could get the parts he needed through Amazon, so he ordered them and they’re here already. (What could be handier than that Amazon Prime?)
For me, the nice thing was that sister Harriet and I went to Troy (Idaho) where sister Joni (and husband Pat) are moving from their large country home to a small house in town. We had a nice lunch in Troy at a converted service station called “The Filling Station.” Then Joni and Pat showed us their new house. The Christmas decorations are already on shelves in the garage even though they haven’t moved the furniture. Joni has her priorities straight.
Back at the old house, Joni gave us boxes of family archives which she no longer wishes to store. Having just finished downsizing and selling her old country home, Harriet wasn’t really interested either. So, I came home with the stuff, which I had been given to know was mine to sort and dispose of as I saw fit.
It’s amazing what remained as evidence of a long and active life – from personal keepsakes to official documents – especially when you consider that it’s been 18 years since these individuals passed away. Some things were easily tossed while others touched nostalgic chords. For instance, I found my Grandmother Nina Portfors’ Rebekah pins (or emblems, as they call them). I knew, of course, that something should have happened with those pins when Grandma passed on in 1955, but my grandfather couldn’t bear to part with her effects. Fast forward nearly 60 years and through the magic of Facebook, a very nice individual provided information so that I can return the emblems to my Grandmother’s lodge in Orofino. She also extended an invitation for me to join.
Other finds ran the gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous. Amongst the sublime were my grandparents’ marriage license, their certificates of birth, certificates of naturalization for my grandfather and great-grandfather, even some documents in Swedish. The ridiculous? Who would have thought that Uncle Porkie kept so much high school memorabilia? KW