STILL ANOTHER WORKDAY

At the farm on Tuesday (Jan. 27), Mike and I delimbed the downed 100-year-old pine tree lying in the north field. We made a burn pile and another pile of limbs to cut for firewood.

It was not as cold as previous work days. The afternoon high was 45. The sun was out, which helps a lot. The frost was gone from the trees, leaving a world that was warmer but bleaker. The ground was somewhere between frozen and mud.

Without running water, it’s difficult to manage food prep and other activities of daily living. The dishwasher is full of dirty dishes. I plan to use disposables for the duration.

Mike lit a fire in the fireplace, which gradually warmed the house. I really love being at the farm. It’s just that it’s cold, the house is disorganized, and I’m not a manual laborer. My mind wanders while I work.

And where does my mind wander to? Well, I have happy places. I still think of making that sock doll. The other day I bought a package of three men’s work socks in off-white at Goodwill for $5.97, the best option I have found to date. Even so, these socks don’t work for the instructions I want to use. At least for the price I can afford to experiment. Whatever I do, it probably won't be as cute as the dolls in the drawing. Just the way it is.

Of course, my priority project is Silas’ “pattern blanket.” I try to work on it several hours a day. I would love to finish it soon so that he can have it before he forgets he asked me to make it.

Otherwise, I have had my frustrations in adjusting to Windows 11. I’ll spare you the details. KW

AND YET ANOTHER FARM WORKDAY

Tuesday, Jan. 20 – Mike insisted on another trip to the farm, so son Murray went with us. This was our third trip to the farm within a week. It was another dreary sunless day that didn’t budge from 27 degrees. Really, it’s too cold to work outside, but Mike will do it.

I mostly stayed in the house. Mike lit a fire in the fireplace, and the house became tolerably warm. After correcting a winterization oversight, Mike and Murray spent several hours working on the downed trees. We started back to town at 3:00.

We found two mice in traps again, so I reset the traps and set several more, one in my upstairs sewing room where last year the mice stole batting from a kit I left on the bed. Honestly, I don’t know their egress to these rooms, but nothing is sacred – NOTHING! Incidentally, daughter Hallie tells me that she has been trapping rats in the backyard of her Seattle home – five in two weeks. I have read that Boise is also fighting a rat infestation.

As I waited in the house, I looked through our cabinet of music inherited from my dad, whose career was devoted to teaching piano. I continue to store a variety of books, magazines, and sheet music, and I came up with a book of trombone “swing” exercises published in 1935, which I gave to Murray. So much is available online these days that we hardly need the books.

The trees, laden with frost, still stood in winter beauty, but I didn’t venture out to take pictures due to the cold. KW

ANOTHER WORKDAY AT THE FARM

 

We have been using the dining room evenings this cold weather. It is so much warmer, but I’m going back to the living room as soon as possible. – Ina Dobson, 1936

Mike and I went to the farm on Saturday (Jan. 17) to work in the wood. We tackled the downed pines at the pond, delimbing, cutting firewood, and carrying limbs to the burn pile, also located near the pond. It didn’t involve a lot of heavy work, but we were on unstable ground and our backs aren’t what they used to be. We were careful.

Mike was in his element and cheerful as he worked. The work is meaningful and accomplishment is always satisfying.

However, it was COLD! It was 27 degrees and foggy when we arrived, and the sun never did totally burn through. The day remained cold, but we were there to work, and we weren’t going to let the cold keep us from our mission.

Having winterized the house, we were without running water, but I heated soup in the microwave so that we had a hot lunch. We ran the wall furnace to take the chill off the dining room. As my grandparents knew, closing off the living room makes the dining room warmer.

We worked late into the afternoon. It was 4:30 and growing dark as we left the farm, and we decided to travel via Hwy 95 instead of the Gilbert Grade. As darkness fell, the fog grew denser. Visibility was poor until we finally drove out of the fog when we reached the valley.

And then we were back at the town house, safe and sound. I was glad of a warm shower, a hot meal, and a warm bed.

Oh! I nearly forgot the rodent report. We found two mice in traps, which we rebaited and reset. KW

A DIFFICULT START TO A NEW YEAR

 

Change! The older we are, the more difficult seems the adjustment. Despite the fact that people we know and love pass from our lives with increasing frequency, other unhappy circumstances exist that are beyond our control. I could do with a visit to JoAnn’s. A quick walk-through always gave my spirits a lift, and nothing takes its place. And it was so easy to visit JoAnn’s because it was right there in the little shopping center where I bought my groceries and got my hair done. The hair salon closed, too, and now the center includes an Auto Zone. “Nuf sed,” as Ina would say.

On Wednesday (Jan. 14), a lovely springlike mid-January day, we went to the farm and winterized the house. It remains to be seen if we really needed to winterize this year, but Mike doesn’t want to worry about it, and this is a valid reason to do it. The sun shone brightly in the southern sky. The afternoon high temp was 47.

Typically, we winterize the house in November ahead of a cold snap, but knowing that a mild winter was predicted this year, we left winterization until late in the hopes that we could have our Christmas celebration there. It didn’t work out due to the windstorm of Dec. 17 which blew down pine trees and left us without electricity for a full week. And with some preparation, we could probably manage all right without electricity. It might even be an educational retro experience, but without electricity, we have no water, and that’s a deal breaker. 

Ordinarily, we would not even try to visit the farm in January due to snow and cold. This year, there is no snow. The distant mountains show only a patch of snow here and there. It’s a bit scary since it means we’re in a drought.

Winterizing was all we did at the farm. Mike suggested delimbing the tree in the north field and/or cleaning the eavestroughs, but in the end, we decided to return to town. After all, he is still recuperating from a mild stroke and the flu, and as it was, it was after 3:00 when we arrived back at the town house. I had work to do in putting away pantry items and other things that I brought back, and Mike washed the Jeep. KW

A BOXFUL OF COLORS

 

Oh! I had so many plans for the week after Christmas and so many plans for January. It was going to be such fun to finish a wallhanging, an apron, a doll outfit, or even to make a doll. The possibilities seemed unlimited and I looked forward to it.

Unfortunately, I came down with the flu. On my worst day – New Year’s Day – Mike experienced vertigo. I couldn’t do a thing for him, so we called son Murray who looked after his needs. He had a mild stroke due to a clot and spent two nights in the hospital for observation while I convalesced at home. Once Mike came home, we realized he also had the flu, so we’re now taking care of each other – and Bess. (I’m thinking that Bess can do without all those walks she gets, at least for the duration.)

Anyway, enough about that. I took advantage of quiet hours to crochet on Silas’ pattern blanket, and it grew to 12.5 inches, but decisions regarding the repetition of colors became bothersome for me.

“Well, we can use a randomizer,” said Hallie. There’s a randomizer? Who knew? So, Hallie submitted a proposition regarding my project to Chatgpt, and it came back with an immediate color plan.

“You could ask it yourself,” said Hallie. “Just go to Chatgpt.com and submit your proposition.” And the more I thought about it, the more I liked that idea.

So, instead of asking the wizard (AI) to build on my work in progress, I submitted a proposition based on my general plan and the colors on hand. The wizard responded immediately, telling me what a lovely project it was and supplying a list of appropriate color changes. It even shared its rationale regarding how certain colors enhance one another.

“I can do more for you,” it said. For instance, it could tell me the yardage I would need for each color. It could tell me which color to substitute if I ran out of one. I took it up on its offer to supply a printable chart. Then it wished me well, affirming that my project was wonderful and would turn out beautifully and inviting me to return if I needed anything more, such as a suggestion for the border.

It just boggles my mind. What next?

So, yes, I have restarted the pattern blanket. In fact, a little error at the start was bothering me, so I corrected that and then began with the color chart.

What else can I ask it? KW

THE “PATTERN BLANKET”

 

Our grandson Silas, visiting us at Christmastime, came running to me talking about the “pattern blanket.”

“Will you make me a pattern blanket,” he asked.

“What’s a pattern blanket,” I asked, to which his mother responded that he meant the striped afghan we put on the bed we made for him in Mike’s office. In recent years I’ve made several striped scrap afghans – color stripes alternating with gray. I made the first one – the one Silas was talking about – for myself. Son Murray admired it, so last year I made one for him.  

Of course, I assured Silas, I would make one for him. Hallie was dubious, implying that this was a thing of the moment and that he would forget about it. This may well be true, but I know from experience that all too soon the children stop asking for the simple things I do. Moreover, that stash of leftover yarn is still available – and I would love to buy more. And besides, how could I ever say no to such an earnest request from one of my favorite people?! I was on it in a flash! 

The thing with a scrap afghan is that it doesn’t truly work unless you buy more yarn. I figure each scrap afghan costs $40. And then you have leftover yarn again, and this just continues to feed on itself. With the finish of each scrap afghan, the stash of leftover yarn has grown but some colors have to be replenished. It’s really rather fascinating how that works.

“And,” said Hallie, “he isn’t going to care what you do.”

Sure he cares, I think to myself. He wants a “pattern blanket” that Grandma made just for him, and a pattern blanket he shall have. Maybe Hallie just doesn’t understand how easy it is to make my “pattern blankets.” It’s a stitch, not a written pattern. Or, maybe she meant that I don’t need to overthink the color combinations.

I must have restarted Silas’ “pattern blanket” four times, but this is necessary. To start rightly is to end rightly. I practiced with hook sizes, holding the yarn tighter, and measuring my beginning row. At last, I was satisfied and it began to grow.

How long will it take to finish it? Let’s just say that I hope to finish it while Silas still remembers he asked me to make it. Meanwhile, I bring it up on our facetime visits. This morning I sent a message to ask if he wanted the pattern blanket to include white and black or just bright colors. Hallie said he didn’t have to think twice. “Just bright colors.” KW

 

HOLIDAY RECAP -- 1930 / 2025

 

I feel like I can settle down to just living again and enjoying my gifts and memories of a very happy Christmas to which you added a great deal. – Ina

I can truly echo Ina’s assessment of a good Christmas well-celebrated. We crunched and munched and mussed and enjoyed Silas’ delighted “Oh wow!” with everything Santa brought him. Now the house is so very quiet, but I can “settle down to just living again.”

In my imaginary 1930’s Christmas, Sadie loved the rag doll that her Aunt Shirley made for her, and after Christmas she looked on as Shirley made several dresses for the doll. Eventually Ethel and Sadie will return home, and Myrtle will go back to her job in Portland, but for the rest of this week, they will enjoy a quiet family reunion.

Meanwhile, here in 2025, we thought that the predicted mild winter would mean that we could celebrate Christmas with the ghosts in the old farmhouse. What could possibly happen to cancel a farmhouse Christmas if the weather continued mild and we had no snow? Mike and I made several day trips to the farm to take gifts and food for the anticipated holiday. I made the beds! We brought in the tree! We were sure our farmhouse celebration was going to happen. 

But -- Mother Nature had other plans. Instead of cold and snow, on Dec. 17, a ferocious windstorm (70-80 mph) hit our region. I’ve already reported about the downed trees and power outage. (See Day 20 below.) We still hoped for restoration of power, but on the 23^rd, Mike made calls and learned that a pole was down on our side of the ridge and had to be re-set. Our place would be among the last to be restored, probably because we are the fewest affected. At that point, I said it was too late to revive our plans for a farmhouse Christmas.

On Christmas Eve morning, Mike and I, daughter Hallie and family, and son Clint drove to the farm. That’s when the roof damage on the back of the house was discovered. A loose limb, not especially large but with a javelin-like point, was thrust with such force that it not only pierced the metal roof but also went through an interior brace and poked a hole in the ceiling of the master bathroom. The guys got out our longest ladder, and Mike climbed up and onto the roof to patch it with a scrap of metal roofing and some adhesive insulation.

As we drove back to town, we met the Clearwater Power workers, and they said power would be restored by nightfall – too late for us.

Then on a cold Sunday the 28^th, Mike and I drove to the farm again. He toured the perimeter on the 4-wheeler and found other downed trees but only a few limbs in the fields. While he worked in the wood at the bottom of the lane, I tended the burn pile. His last task was to patch the bathroom ceiling with a piece of tar paper and clean up the mess. Hopefully it’s sealed for the winter, but we’ll need a contractor to fix this damage, and that’s in the works with our good friends, the folks at Disaster Response. KW