Thursday, July 30, 2020

WORKING ON PROJECTS




Mike found an antique Cosco step stool in the barn and decided to refurbish it. He took it apart, had it sandblasted, and will repaint it. I’m reasonably certain it was the stool we had in town when I was a girl. It’s probably older than I am. You can still buy these stools, but I’ve read that today’s model is not the quality of yesterday’s. I hope it proves to be a useful kitchen stool. I have used children's Sunday school chairs to reach upper shelves, and it's time for something sturdier.

Mike also inserted new caning in the seat of an antique rocking chair. It sounds so simple to say that, but it was a time-consuming process.

I lost momentum with my sewing projects this spring, but I finished this cute daisy sundress and shrug, a fabric panel from Tea Time Fabrics on Etsy (here). It went together quickly and easily, and I enjoyed making it. The best part, as you can see, is that Shirley Anne loves it! 



I also finished this doll-sized quilt using the “Tropical Illusions” pattern by Lillie Stone on Pixie Faire




 

Swimsuit Variations was the July topic of the Pixie Faire “Sewing with Cinnamon” sew-along. Molly models one that I just finished. It seems like this topic comes up every summer, and I wondered just how many swimsuits one doll could use, but I was assured that Hazel loves swimsuits. KW

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

OBITUARY: MYRTLE IRENE DOBSON


The other day, someone said to me that everyone deserves an obituary. It seems disrespectful, she said, when one is not provided. Coincidentally, I had been thinking along the same lines because I discovered that no obituary was written for my aunt, Myrtle Dobson. It would have fallen to my dad and Aunt Ethel (her siblings) to provide the information, and to be fair, at the time of her passing, they might have felt there wasn’t much to say. Or, maybe they didn’t know how to state the facts of her life in a positive way. Or, they might have been honoring Aunt Lynn’s wishes.

In the last 25 years or so, obituary style has changed from a few cold facts written by a newspaper staffer to an affectionate tribute written by family or friends, so with affection, I have written an obituary for Aunt Lynn.

MYRTLE IRENE DOBSON
Myrtle Irene (Lynn) Dobson died at the Orofino Convalescent Center on December 28, 1971, at the age of 77. She had been in ill health for several years.

Myrtle was born on Little Bear Ridge near Troy, Idaho, on March 28, 1894, the second of the six children of Julian and Ina Dickson Dobson. She was just two years old when the family homesteaded in the Gilbert community south of Orofino, Idaho, where she grew up.

Myrtle’s early schooling was at the one-room Dickson Schoolhouse at Gilbert. She later graduated from Lewiston High School with the class of 1918. A talented sketch artist and amateur photographer, in the 1930s she worked for photography studios in Portland, Oregon, retouching and tinting photographs. During World War II, she was an office worker.

A farm girl at heart, Myrtle was always willing to return to the family farm and assist her parents, but she was also at home in Portland and Seattle where she took advantage of the cultural and educational benefits of city life.

In the 1950s, Myrtle returned to the family farm to care for her mother. These were productive years in which Myrtle wrote a history of her mother’s life and organized family memorabilia while also maintaining the house and gardens. After her mother's passing in 1957, she served as caregiver / companion for several individuals. Later, she cared for her brother, Earle Dobson, at his home in Nezperce until ill health forced them both to move to the Orofino Convalescent Center.

An independent spirit, Myrtle never married. She was a loved member of her extended family and will be missed. She is survived by her brothers, Vance Dobson and Earle Dobson, of Orofino; her sisters, Ethel Robinson of Clarkston and Shirley Shockley of Seattle; one nephew and four nieces. She was predeceased by her parents and her older sister, Eva Pearl Sanders. KW

Sunday, July 26, 2020

SUMMER DAYS


Ripening grain at Gilbert, Idaho. The field to the left of center is on Central Ridge.


Friday afternoon (July 24), the wind came up. The sun was warm, as we expect in summer, but the breeze was cool. In fact, the air coming through the window kept the house cool. I saw no harm in baking cookies, and Mike agreed. In the evening, I had to exchange my lightweight summer duster for my warmest robe. Hard to believe that it’s hot in town, but we understand that it is – and it’s time for us to go there.

I saw a bird land on the cherry tree Friday morning and knew it was time to pick the rest of the cherries. Mike did the upper branches from the ladder while I gathered those I could reach. Together we picked a gallon and a half, which resulted in two quarts pitted for the freezer and another quart to eat. We agreed to stay alive and not try to reach the cherries in the top of the tree. “The birds can have the rest,” I said, as I removed the swathing. So, that’s that for this year. It’s good to see the tree swaying freely in the breeze once again. And I learned that the cherries are ripe when they turn dark red. Good to know.

Saturday was a busy workday. Mike mowed. I picked peas and called it the end of the season. In addition to peas in the freezer, I discovered plenty I had overlooked in the refrigerator! I pulled the pea plants out of the raised bed so that the summer squash could have more space. And I picked one zucchini. The strawberries are setting on again, this time with some nice-sized berries. The peak season for rhubarb has passed, but I pulled a few stalks.

Driving back to town on Hwy 12 along the Clearwater River, we encountered a long stretch of seal coating, and unfortunately, despite obedience to the speed limit, the Jeep’s windshield was hit by a small stone, leaving a six-inch horizontal crack. Mike says it means a new windshield. Upsetting.

We also came upon a three-car accident west of Lenore that held us up in the heat for 20 minutes. When the oncoming traffic came through, we couldn’t believe the number of vehicles. I wished I had been counting. By contrast, in 20 minutes there were maybe ten of us heading toward town. It’s really summer now. KW