IN PRAISE OF GRANDMA

I have unfinished projects in storage. I like to start things; I just don’t have good follow-through. Maybe lack of discipline isn’t quite the reason, though. Sometimes projects just aren’t as much fun as I envisioned. Perhaps they are a bit too challenging, or maybe I realize too late that the finished project isn’t a fit. Still, facing those UFOs is discouraging, so the last couple of weeks have been difficult as I sorted through leftover projects and supplies stored both at the farm and in town.   

Finished piece for sale on eBay

Some 40 years ago when my children were small, I saw this crewel embroidery kit in “McCall’s Needlework”: “Grandma – A door and a heart that are always open.” I loved it, so I bought it. I thought I would make it for my mother, and I made a start, but as usual, life happened and I set it aside. And as I thought about it, the style just wasn’t right for my mother. Eventually I stored it, not quite able to part with it.

When I became a grandmother, I wondered if I should make it for myself. After all, one shouldn’t compliment oneself. An open door is one thing. Anyone can see when a door is open, but it’s not up to me to say that my heart is open. However, now that Silas has come, I truly believe he recognizes that my grandmother’s heart is open to him. And besides that, it’s just a phrase in praise of grandmas in general. Maybe I could make it for my wall after all. But before I could finish it, I had to find it. I went headfirst into the project bins – and didn’t come up with it.

I went through everything once, and then I went through again more carefully. I made decisions and parted with some things I no longer care to finish. And you know how it is – when you’re really looking for something, you find other missing things. My joy knew no bounds when I found my long-lost thimble in the very bottom of the least likely bin. If I hadn’t been searching methodically, I never would have found it. And I found an heirloom charm bracelet stored with some keepsakes.

Wrinkled but still readable

However, I still didn’t find the “Grandma” piece. I just couldn’t believe that I had actually parted with it, but I couldn’t think where else to look – until Friday morning, that is, when we went to the attic for the artificial flowers for the cemetery. Mike offered to retrieve that box for me, but some vague feeling nudged me to climb the attic stairs, too. And while I was there, I searched a large bin of leftover fabrics – and there was “Grandma.” Yay!!!

"Are you going to finish it now," asks a son. Hmmmm. Well, I want to. I hope so. 

Cleaning the cubby hole and straightening the vintage sewing room then became a “buffalo,” but I have now tackled it, put things away, and set up my sewing machine. 

It was good -- all of it. KW

 

CEMETERY VISITATION

Often, we don’t have flowers in bloom on Memorial Day, but this year, we do. The lilacs are still in bloom, the spirea bush is beautiful, and the iris are plentiful and glorious. I made a live bouquet for my dad’s grave.

We have 22 graves of the extended Dobson family at the Gilbert Cemetery, and when we’re here on Memorial Day weekend, we visit there and place small artificial bouquets. I do it because I like to show that we still remember our family – my dad, of course; my great-grandparents Lafe and Lucy Dickson; my grandparents, Ina and Jack; great-aunt and uncle, Bertha and June Dobson; the children of the two Dobson families; and a few of their grandchildren. And then we tour the cemetery to see if other graves have been decorated, and we only see a few. People moved on from here.

So, Mike and I visited the cemetery on Friday morning while it was sunny and pleasant. I laid out the bouquets, and Mike assisted in placement. As we left, I had again that sad feeling of parting, as if they didn’t want me to leave or that I didn’t want to leave them there. No, I don’t really believe the departed linger, and if they do, it’s not at the cemetery.

It clouded up in the afternoon. We heard distant thunder, and it rained a bit at supper time. We welcome the cooler temps and whatever moisture we get. Mike cleaned the eavestrough that feeds the cistern – our source for garden water. KW

ANOTHER DIVE UNDER THE KITCHEN SINK

We’ve been loading and unloading cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink for years. Every year it’s some problem. Some years it’s a leak. Last year it was replacing the disposal. This year Mike installed a new kitchen faucet. I’m not the best of housekeepers, but I’ll match the cleanliness of my under-sink cabinet to anyone’s. Anyway, the new faucet is in place and operable and everything that belongs under the sink is back in place.

Just as I predicted, the regional temps dropped, and here at the farm, it’s been quite cool. I’m wearing my winter pajamas to bed again, and we’re using the electric blanket. The low was 43 yesterday morning. For the next ten days, the forecast is for highs in the 70s and lows around 50. And that’s fine. It’s sunny and pleasant. The transplants love it.

I hung out laundry today, including sheets, but then the farmer came in to spray the fields, and I scurried to take the clothes off the line even though they weren’t dry. Farming is such a dusty business! He’s gone now, and I’ve just finished rehanging them.

And the crop duster is working here, too. A busy day!

Back in 2012, just as we were celebrating our “Century Farm” award, the county scraped the gravel off the road that approaches our lane, leaving mostly dirt and exposed rocks. They never came back to fix it, and over the years erosion has taken its toll. Now that our neighbor is a county commissioner, the road department is finally addressing the issue. Three loads of gravel were dumped between the top of Plank’s Pitch and our lane yesterday, and we anticipate the grader in a day or two. Now if we could just get our lane fixed. As Mike says, “It’s always something.” KW

The Orofino High School Band, 1924

Questions arose on a previous post regarding the Orofino High School band in the 1920s. This article from the 1924 edition of “The Prospector,” the Orofino High School annual, explains that the high school band did work with the community band. The article was written by a freshman, and I’m posting it in its entirety because I think it’s charming. (It was 100 years ago, you know.)

A few days before school started last September, the good news was received that we were to have a band leader. As this was the first time we had ever had one in high school it fill most of the students hearts with joy.

On September the eighteenth we were introduced to our new band master, Mr. A. D. Plumb, whom we liked very much from the beginning. His actions told us that he was a jolly good fellow and that he was a master of music.

On September the twenty-fifth we held our first practice in the science room. At the start we had the following instruments enrolled: six cornets, four saxophones, four clarinets, four altos, three trombones, one baritone, two basses, three snare drums, and one bass drum.

The first month was spent in scale practice and getting acquainted with our instruments. In two months’ time we were playing pieces from the beginners’ band books. In a short time we could play these pieces and were starting on more difficult ones.

Within three months the saxophone section and part of the cornet section were promoted to the city band. The city band gave a concert on the seventeenth of December in which the saxophone quartet played three selections. They put it across in fine shape and the people were very much pleased with their playing.

After the new year began we were able to play regular band pieces. A little later we started working on a few pieces for a concert which the high school and city bands were to give on April the fifteenth. The pieces were worked up in fine shape and when the concert was given the people were amazed at the fine playing and rapid progress.

We want to give special praise to Mr. Plumb for teaching the boys and helping them to accomplish so much in their work. We hope he will be with us next year. – L. G. H. ‘27

The above photo, which accompanied the article, was not identified, but I think the bespectacled lad holding a clarinet in the center of the photo was likely my uncle, Francis (Porkie) Portfors. And note – it’s an “all man” band. I'm reminded of The Music Man. KW

UNSETTLED AND COOLER

Cherry tree in bloom

Mike has outlined our schedule for the month of May:

Monday (15^th) – to the farm (We’re at the farm now.)

Friday (18^th) – back to town “to get the things we forgot”

Saturday (19^th) – group bike ride

Monday (22^nd) – back to farm after PT appt

Wednesday (31^st) – back to town

All dates subject to change without notice.

Pear blossoms

We visited Home Depot on Mother’s Day. Naturally, there were lots of shoppers. We bought a faucet for the kitchen sink at the farm, and I was going to check out the garden center, but when I saw the line at check-out, I changed my mind. 

Bumble bee -- Welcome, pollinator!

Instead, we waited until evening and went to Walmart. I paid $5.00 each for six plants – four strawberries and two tomatoes. They ask $20 for the large potted tomato plants, and those are probably better in the long run, but I figure that for $20 I could actually buy a summer’s supply of tomatoes. Well, we think they’re better if homegrown, although they aren’t like I remember them even so. Perhaps next year I’ll start my own tomato plants. (I always think there’s a next year.)

Storm, May 15

What a difference four hot days made! When we were here last Thursday, the pear and cherry trees were in bloom. On Monday, those trees had moved past bloom and the apple trees are now blooming. At this point, it seems like we’ll have fruit this year. The lilacs and black hawthorn are also coming on.

Crab apples in lane

We had a thunderstorm here Monday night with half an inch of rain in an hour. Tuesday was pleasantly warm with thunderheads and dark skies in the distance. Today (Wednesday), it’s even cooler and overcast. The forecast is evidently for a few days of these slow-moving storms, then a return to unseasonably warm highs and lows.

Large Winterstein apple tree 

A hummingbird called at the dining room window, making his wish for nectar known. I took care of that right away and hung up the feeders.

It’s quiet here and all is well. KW

AN UNEXPECTED REMINDER OF MY MOTHER

“Here’s a picture of the Orofino High School band in the ‘Blast from the Past,’” said Mike as he read the local newspaper. “Oh, but it’s 1926, so you wouldn’t know anyone.”

“I bet I would,” I replied in a “just-try-me” tone. My dad graduated from OHS in 1924, my mother in 1927. It was their era, and I was acquainted with some of those folks.

Sure enough! My uncle, Francis (“Porkie”) Portfors, stands to the right of center holding a clarinet. And there on his right is his sister – my mother, Dorothy Portfors. The photo served as a timely Mother’s Day reminder.

Mother & Uncle Porkie, 1927

Uncle Porkie was 18 months older than Mother and should have graduated with the class of 1926. However, his best friend, John (“Buzz”) Oud, sustained a serious and scary head injury while playing baseball and lost a year of school. (I think they were young teens when the accident happened.) Uncle Porkie refused to continue in school without Buzz. I don’t know how he managed this; I suspect he deliberately flunked a grade. At any rate, both Porkie and Buzz graduated in 1927 with Mother’s class. Buzz became a pharmacist and operated his own pharmacy and gift store in Orofino, while Porkie eventually operated the Ford garage, established by my grandfather, along with Wayne and Bill Johnson.

The photo is unidentified. If I had a school annual from this time frame, I could identify several other students, but I think the young man behind Mother’s right shoulder is Marvin Dickson, my dad’s cousin. He was Mother’s age and also a friend of Marvin Grasser to whom this photo belonged.

After graduating from high school, Mother attended college in Corvallis, OR. It proved to be too far from home. She didn’t enroll at the University of Idaho because that’s where Porkie and Buzz went. She said that she had carried them through high school and she wasn’t going to carry them through college as well.

“But Mother,” I said, “that just wouldn’t have happened.”

“I know,” she said, “but I didn’t know it then.”

She wanted to be a dress designer, and I’m sorry she didn’t realize at least some part of that dream because I think she had the talent to do it. But attitudes toward women and education were different then, and I don’t think she had a lot of parental support.

Anyway, Mother returned to Orofino where she kept books for her father, C.O. Portfors, at the Ford garage. In May 1929, she married Fairly Walrath and became a mother for the first time in May of 1930 with the birth of Harriet. She and Fairly had three more children – Farroll Joan, Charles, and Nina. Fairly died in 1945, and she married Vance Dobson in 1947. I was her last child, born in 1949.

Mother was a dutiful daughter, a dedicated mother and grandmother, and a talented homemaker. I miss her. KW

[I'm sorry the clipping is of such poor quality. It's not my photo, so I couldn't do much with it.]

FARMHOUSE PLUMBING REPAIRED

I’m just back from getting groceries, and it seems like Memorial Day weekend rather than Mother’s Day. We’re bracing for an unseasonably warm weekend. Even our Seattleites are preparing for the heat.

Mike and I met Jeff the Plumber at the farmhouse yesterday. It took three hours for him to repair our various problems. Mike assisted as Jeff’s “gofer.” The water is on now. It just remains to install a new faucet at the kitchen sink and in the shower stall in the master bath. Mike will do that.

Spring green

Jeff the Plumber was explicit that we must winterize early and pump antifreeze through the system. We just can’t be caught out as we have been in recent years. Last year the cold snap came on suddenly in early November and by the time we got there, the road was filled with drifted snow. We couldn’t drive in, so Mike and his trusty companion Bess walked in and came back for me on the 4-wheeler. We worked quickly to winterize and could only carry out one or two crates. The landscape was beautiful but also fraught with difficulties. It was a stressful day.

Cottonwood Butte

For 15 years, we were able to spend November / December days at the farm. I even remember one year when we had a brief cold snap in October, and that was winter. But in the last five years or so, winter has come early and been colder than in the past. We have to make the necessary adjustments to protect the house. It means we can’t have a farmhouse Christmas, and while I accept this, don’t think I’m not disappointed.

But I digress. After Jeff left, Mike mowed the lawn and I ran the dishwasher, gave the kitchen a cursory cleaning, and vacuumed up the dust left by the plumbing repairs. I had already deadheaded the daffodils and pulled rhubarb stalks. We arrived back in town at 6:30, grateful that we could quickly prepare a supper of leftovers.

A passing storm

We are free now to spend time at the farm and address some other issues. The Plumber recommended an excavator out of Orofino, so we’ll look into that for improvements on the lane. And of course, it’s time to plant things in the garden. Two weeks ago I started squash in peat pots. If only I had a safe place to plant them. I just couldn’t resist the urge to have something growing in the kitchen window. KW

PROJECT UPDATE

I always have many projects in the planning stage. They dance in my head like sugarplums. But let me tell you, dreaming over them is not enough. I’m amazed at how difficult it can be to make choices, organize supplies, and get started. Some projects never get off the ground, and of those that do, buffaloes abound along the way. The path to the finish line is not one of flowers.

But some projects are important and must be done. I just finished a new “lovey” blanket for grandson Silas. Two years ago, when I knew that a baby boy was on the way, I bought yards of flannel at JoAnn’s and made receiving blankets, not realizing that he would be swaddled in a flannel bag for weeks. (Yes, my baby-care practices are horribly out of date; do not entrust your newborn to me.) Nevertheless, those lightweight flannel blankets were evidently put to use along the way because when they visited last summer, Hallie said that they were Silas’ favorites and any of them would do. But with the next visit, Silas had chosen a favorite – the one with monkeys riding bikes. He calls it “monkey.”

“I’m afraid it won’t last for the duration,” Hallie said. “Where did you get that fabric?” Well, it was a remnant when I bought it at JoAnn’s two years ago, and knowing that fabric designs are discontinued when the run is sold out, I wasn’t hopeful that I could replace it.

I was glad to find a swatch of the monkeys in my stash. A swatch is worth a thousand words, you know. I showed it to the manager at my local JoAnn’s, and she said, “That’s an old design; I haven’t seen it in two years.” An online seller would be my only option, she said. I searched rows and rows of flannel while I was at the store and found nothing in the way of monkeys and not many I thought would appeal to a little boy. (Don’t get me started on the dearth of acceptable “boy” fabrics.)

My online search was frustrating as well, but I did find an Etsy seller offering several monkey flannel designs, and I ordered a yard of “monkeys swinging on vines with bananas.” I finished "new monkey” and sent it to Seattle with son Clint. The report is that Silas still prefers "old monkey" to "new monkey." I'm not surprised. KW

A VISIT TO THE DEAR OLD PLACE

Crop coming up in north field

We're still having summer-like temps in the valley. Only the breeze says, "Spring. Enjoy!" 

Mike and I spent Tuesday morning running errands and in the afternoon, he made sure the 4-wheeler and the lawnmower were operable and loaded them for return to the farm. The 4-wheeler went onto the bed of the pick-up while the lawnmower rode on the trailer. The trip went well, and I was relieved.

Once at the farm, Mike worked hard. Mike always works hard. We made two trips to the burn pile with branches from the maple tree, and I cleared the grove of pinecones and pine tree debris. After lunch, Mike mowed, and I thought he had the yard looking good. He always wishes for a better lawn, but it can hardly be done when your yard sits in the middle of plowed fields.

I also poisoned the gopher holes. In the past we’ve had mounds. Now we have holes. Holes are easier to spot and bait. As for mice in the house, we only had one in trap, and it was in the closet under the stairs. We don’t know how they get in there. It’s obvious there’s a small opening somewhere.

I took the camera, but it wasn’t photo-ready, so I used my phone to take these pictures. If you’re following crop development, the pictures will show you that they’re coming along, but we did observe that it’s already dry. While some regions anticipate flooding, the upper country could use a good rain.

It's just a lovely time of year. The daffodils are in various stages of bloom. The lilacs, now in full bloom in town, won’t blossom at altitude for a while yet. I was surprised that both rhubarb plants were developed enough to pull some stalks. I'm going to try a recipe for rhubarb brownies. 

As we sat on the porch for our break, we said how good it felt to be there. It was 81 in the afternoon. Back in town at 5:30, it was still 90.

Jeff the Plumber has scheduled us for next Thursday, May 11. We’re looking forward to it. Meanwhile, we expect some cooler days – in the 60s. We’ll see if it happens. KW