WORKING AWAY

Mike and I went to the farm on Sunday (Father’s Day) and began a vigorous regimen of belated spring housecleaning and grounds maintenance in preparation for summer visitors. Mike mowed and trimmed the yard and washed windows, and then rewarded himself with a bike ride. I puttered along with my chores. Neither one of us whistles while we work.

Our first visitors arrived Monday afternoon. Son Murray brought a friend who was visiting from Philadelphia. They had been driving and hiking – seeing the sights of scenic central Idaho. They stayed for supper – Warnock turkey burgers and pecan bars – and then they left in hopes of seeing more sights before dark.

Tuesday, we suffered setbacks. I discovered that the ice maker wasn’t filling with water. Hence, it had not made ice for a while. Mike diagnosed it as pump failure. I researched the part and Mike ordered it. It will be here by the weekend. Meanwhile, we have ice trays on hand, and we made ice the old-fashioned way. Mike has issues with our medical insurance and spent over an hour talking with reps while he washed windows. Then the electricity was off for two hours. In a sense, it didn’t affect my cleaning work too much. I just couldn’t run the vacuum. Of course, we had no internet. I like having the internet.

Also on Tuesday, the farmer sprayed the fields. How I wished Silas could have seen that spraying monster traveling up and down over the fields. Silas loves monster trucks.

The beds are ready now for Hallie, Nick, and Silas. Hallie plans to attend her 25^th class reunion in town, and then we’ll spend a few days at the farm.

The tomato plants I bought at Walmart have made wonderful progress. I can practically watch them grow. The zucchini and yellow crookneck have finally germinated, and the strawberry plants are flourishing and sending out runners.

The deer ate the leaves off several bottom branches of the cherry tree, so I swathed them as best I could – perhaps too little, too late. The tree is so loaded with cherries this year that its odd topknot is bent under the weight. 

I didn’t take time to look for the Mallard family. Thanks to Bess, we found a rattler in the grass at the bottom of the lane. And mid-morning on Wednesday, I heard coyotes near the pond. We seldom hear them during daylight.

I hung the hummingbird feeders on Sunday, and gradually they began to visit. Their numbers are few, but even so, they will fight with one another. I put out fresh nectar as we left on Wednesday, hoping to keep up the momentum.

Later. KW

MILO WARNOCK WRONGFUL DEATH – ANOTHER ARTICLE

The Idaho Statesman published another in-depth article today (Saturday, June 14) regarding our son Milo’s murder at the Idaho State Correctional Center (prison). The link is here, but I’m not sure you’ll be able to open it. The Statesman wants readers to be subscribers. [Or, you might have better luck with this link copied from Google.]

This article picks up at the sentencing of James Johnson on April 4 and includes details of his criminal history. It also provides details of the murder event not previously published and updates the ongoing case.

While the description of the murder event is graphic, it’s not nearly as graphic as the reality of the situation. I get through it by knowing that Milo was unconscious. They say he lived an hour after he was found, but I doubt that. I’m grateful that he isn’t living in a vegetative state.

In the months prior to his passing, Milo and I had undertaken a study of reality and spirituality. I am helped immensely by the ideas we discussed, and since I accept the continuity of life, I trust that he is also helped. KW

EARLY HEAT SPELL

We made a quick trip to the farm on Tuesday (June 3) and returned to town Wednesday in order to attend a customer appreciation barbecue on Thursday (the 5^th). I’m not sure the barbecue was worth the interruption in our farm schedule, but as senior citizens, we were lured by the promise of free food – or maybe just the promise of a meal that we didn’t make for ourselves. After scheduled activities on Saturday (the 7^th), we returned to the farm for a day or two between town activities. It feels like too much back and forthing, but we have garden to tend at the farm now, which seemed especially important because of the excessive heat. Town highs were 100 (or nearly so). Farm highs were at 90.

Distant tree is on line between June & Jack's farms

The tomato plants I started from seed didn’t take off, so I bought three plants – Bush Early Girl, Better Boy, and a Sweet 100 cherry tomato. I supplemented the strawberry plants Hallie gave me with two more from Walmart and also planted lettuce in a corner of the strawberry bed – a variety called “heatwave.” The rhubarb plant that a friend gave me is doing well. The mint plants are happy, but that’s probably not a surprise. The orchard / meadow is a good place to plant invasive perennials. The zucchini and yellow crookneck squash seeds have yet to sprout. It's always “win some, lose some” with our garden.

Mike has worked hard pruning dead branches out of the pine trees. We’ve about decided that this broken pine should probably be completely removed. I suggested he saw it into a living sculpture.

I assisted Mike in widening the wire cages around the apple trees. It seems like we should be able to remove the cages, but the deer could devastate those young trees in several ways. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, as we seem to learn over and over.

Mike saw nine little Mallard ducklings following their mom on the pond, but by the time I got there, mom was alone. Nine little ones seems like quite a hatch.

I finally finished the gray striped scrap afghan and just in the nick of time, too, since summer heat is upon us. I swear I have enough yarn to make yet another afghan. I used the wattle stitch, and it was easy to do. It makes a nice warm blanket.

Now it’s town time again – a luncheon for me; a fishing excursion with Ken, a minor hospital procedure, and a motorcycle trip with friends for Mike. It’s also time to get ready for summer visitors – clearing, cleaning, and shopping.

It’s cloudy and cooler today – just low 80s this afternoon. We had a smattering of rain – not enough to measure. KW

BEFORE & AFTER -- REPLAY

Hallie asked for a better "after" photo of the modular home paint job, so here's the comparison again. 

BEFORE

AFTER

You can also see photos on the Pryme Tyme Painting Facebook page. KW

MODULAR HOME MAINTENANCE (BEFORE & AFTER)

Original paint -- cream and light green

Every summer for the last five years, painters have knocked on my door to tell me the house needs to be painted and offer a deal. One painter even tried to play Mike and me against each other. “Your husband says it’s up to you,” he said, and then complained to Mike that I must be hard to get along with. Well, in a way he was right.

After 20 years, I did think the house was overdue for new paint. It had faded for sure, and sitting between two recently painted houses in darker colors, it appeared dated and shabby. I just had to convince Mike, but once he was on board, he stepped up to it and found a painter – Pryme Tyme Painting – that we both liked. That painter was businesslike from the beginning, providing a written estimate and making suggestions, including painting the trim a contrasting color and making a statement with the front door.

So – It’s finished now, and we’re pleased. And I figure it will be a while before the painters knock on the door again. KW

  

IF YOU HANG IT, THEY WILL COME

A view toward the canyon from June's place

I thought I heard a hummingbird buzz by my ear, so I made nectar and we hung the feeders. In the afternoon, one showed up for an easy snack, but it’s a far cry from the swarm of hummers that used to entertain us. Visits to the feeder were few and far between.

Son Murray, visiting the farm on Memorial Day, took himself for a walk around the pond and reported that he saw several little ducklings swimming with their dad. Mom wasn’t there. Perhaps she needed some time to herself.

As we left the yard for our evening constitutional on Friday (May 23), a rattlesnake lay in the grass at the top of the lane. Mike calls that place “rattlesnake crossing” because we often see a rattler there. This was our second sighting of the season.

I saw a nice round bumblebee bumbling along in the iris, and I let him have it. I have a healthy respect for the bees, and I'm pleased that they visit my garden. However, I give them wide berth. 

Red-winged Blackbirds reside in the pine trees at the pond. I think they’ve been there as long as the pond, and they take ownership. I read that some conservation organizations are concerned for them, although they aren’t endangered. They can cause considerable crop damage, but I’ve never heard anyone here complain about them, nor have I noticed them in the field. In terms of damage, the deer are the greater threat anyway. In fact, we watched from our recliners while three or four whitetail munched the tender young grain sprouts in the field adjacent to the yard. They will be back again and again.

Ticks aren't prevalent this year, and it’s fine by me. A tick will ride along with Bess in spite of the repellent she wears, but I haven’t noticed that she’s bothered. Mike removed one from his person – just one this season. I don't want them on me! KW

NOTES ON MEMORIAL DAY

 As I grew up, Memorial Day was an important tradition in my family. In those days, Memorial Day (or Decoration Day, as some still called it) occurred on May 31. The change to the last Monday in May went into effect in 1971 in accordance with the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1968. When I was married in 1975, it didn’t occur to me that our chosen date fell on Memorial Day weekend, and to this day, I would rather observe it on May 31.

Nina & Charlie Portfors

Our family tradition started with my Portfors grandparents. Grandma Nina’s family (Stinsons and Sanders) were interred at the Burnt Ridge Cemetery outside of Troy, Idaho, so Grandma and Grandpa would fill the trunk of his Lincoln with washtubs and buckets of flowers and large cans to serve as vases. They stopped at Aunt Hattie Stinson’s house in Troy (Grandma’s aunt by marriage), loaded her flowers, and the three of them went on to the cemetery where they blended their floral offerings into bouquets for the various graves. Afterwards, they would share a midday meal.

Nina Saunders Portfors 1886-1955

When Grandma Portfors died in 1955, my mother stepped in to help Grandpa continue the tradition of cemetery decorating, and naturally, she took me along. We always had plenty of flowers from our yard as well as Grandpa’s, and my dad would make a trip to the farm where the season was at least two weeks behind town and bring back even more flowers. We made bouquets with iris, lilacs, roses, peonies, poet daffodils, coralbells, bleeding heart, etc. It was always fun to see how those bouquets would turn out.

As the years went on, Mother added more cemeteries to her list and gathered more family members into the plan. It seemed complicated to me, but nothing was too much trouble for Mother if she wanted to do it. Besides the Burnt Ridge Cemetery, we decorated graves at the Normal Hill Cemetery in Lewiston and the Riverside Cemetery in Orofino. Later, she visited Grangeville and Cavendish. We did not regularly visit the Gilbert Cemetery near the farm where my dad’s family is buried, and ironically, this is now the only cemetery I visit and only if it fits our schedule. And I use (and re-use) artificial flowers because I don’t have enough flowers in my yard.

Will I take it more seriously now that Milo’s memorial is at the Gilbert Cemetery? Frankly, I doubt it, but I bought a cemetery vase with spike for his grave with the thought that it would be nice to place live flowers this year. I made two bouquets with iris, bridal veil spirea, and lilacs – one for Milo’s grave and one for my dad’s, which Mike and I delivered on Friday (May 23). And while I was there, I placed artificial flowers on other family graves as long as I could tolerate the stooping.

Even back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, fewer flowers were available on Memorial Day, so Mother planted cemetery boxes. You have to plant those early so that the plants mature, fill the box, and bloom. Mother was good at it, but it’s a labor of love that I didn’t take up.

Decorations placed on any grave signify remembrance, but I especially love to see flowers at an old grave. It means that a life lived long ago is still lovingly remembered. Mike observes that I’m the major decorator at the Gilbert Cemetery. KW