APPLE TREES AND HOT SUMMER DAYS

The farmhouse from behind the pond

“What happened to August,” asked brother Chuck. What indeed? It went the way of July, and now it’s already September 3. The current heat alert came into effect on Aug. 31, I think, but the weekend (and next week) should be more seasonable.

It’s hot, and I’m tired of watering, but I keep at it. The garden changes day by day. I’ve despaired of having more zucchini, but as I watered this morning, I discovered another overgrown squash that will grate up wonderfully for quick bread, and I saw a few blossoms. The tomatoes are slowly fading from green to white to orange.

The hummingbird feeders are now in storage, but this morning, a hummer buzzed me. Too bad. He’ll just have to live off the land.

Over the last several days, I noticed fewer apples on the “Empire” tree, and today I realized that I must pick them now or lose the crop entirely. Apparently, the deer are reaching over the fence. The apples snapped off easily, but I do think they could have stood to ripen a little longer.

Bess & Mike prepare to shoot clay pigeons

The Empire apple was developed in New York State during the mid-60s, a cross between the delicious apple and the McIntosh. It’s grown mostly in the northeastern U.S. So, why do I have this tree? Because four years ago, as I was shopping for apple trees, the nurseryman sold it to me. This variety was unexpected, but I guess I can’t complain. The apples are crisp, have good flavor, and are wormless.

Someone once told me that apples ripen toward the end of October, but if we waited that long, we would never get a single apple. They would fall off the tree and the deer would eat them. I think it depends a lot on the weather and the water. Anyway, I’m proud of myself for (mostly) saving the Empire apple crop.

The “Freedom” apple tree, planted at the same time, bloomed prettily in the spring but bore no apples. And the “Honey Crisp” apples were abundant but infected with worms even though we sprayed. I’m concerned about the trees that are closest to the grove.

Last Saturday, Mike and I walked down to the old apple tree at the end of the lane. It has been identified as a “Winterstein,” a variety developed by Luther Burbank in 1896. I have no proof, but I pretend that my grandfather and his twin brother, who homesteaded here in 1896, planted that tree. For an apple tree, it’s huge – probably 30 to 40 feet, which means it was grafted onto standard stock. The apples are wormy and mealy, but I chopped off the good parts and cooked them into delicious sauce. Mike says he’ll pick more next week, and I hope he can. The deer bed down under that tree, and they will eat the fruit on the lower branches.

Another rattlesnake greeted us as we walked around the pond the other day. That’s our ninth sighting this season, but I wonder if we’re seeing the same snake again and again. It seems short and plump to me.

We’re still hazy with smoke. I can barely see Teakean Butte to the north, and Cottonwood Butte to the south is totally obscured. KW

Little Canyon -- disappointing photo. Breathtaking in reality.

SUMMERWEEN

 

The smoky atmosphere lends an eeriness to the world. All of a sudden the days are noticeably shorter. The angle of the sun casts long shadows. Earth tones take the place of summer greens. It's "Summerween."

After several days of “excessive heat,” today is much cooler (70) with rain. We need the rain. As a matter of fact, the water level in the old cistern which we use to irrigate the gardens is now below the pump, so Mike connected the hoses to the spigot on the house. I’m also carrying gray water from the sink to the vegetation. It seems like a lot of work, but you know, September is upon us. We’ll be putting the gardens to bed before we know it. I wonder if my crop of green tomatoes will ripen or if I’ll make green tomato mincemeat this year.

Anyway, it’s a little cool but we feel refreshed. In fact, Mike said he enjoyed his bike ride so much this morning that he didn’t want to quit. And it’s finally cool enough to bake, and I made banana bread today.

It appeared that the smoke had cleared out some this morning, but it’s back with a vengeance this afternoon. Not only can we not see the canyon or the buttes but the fields are obscured. We’re sitting in the middle of smoke. In fact, I’m watching visibility grow worse right now. I don’t know where the fires are.

The hummingbirds are gone. It’s time to put the feeders away.

I needed to wash a load of whites this morning, even though I had to hang them on the wooden rack on the sun porch due to the pending rain. That’s not the story, though. The story is that it took me ten minutes to open the childproof pouch of Tide pods. I remember when childproof caps first came out (yes, I can remember when medicine bottles didn’t have childproof caps), and the joke was that senior citizens who don’t have children anyway couldn’t open their medications. I thought of that this morning as I made multiple attempts to open the pouch. I even felt panic rising until I realized that I still have liquid detergent, but just then I apparently held my mouth just right and the pouch zipped open. I reclosed it with a clip.
KW

HARVEST 2025

The harvesters made a start on June’s field Tuesday evening (Aug. 19) and worked just half an hour. This was a family operation this year – our lessor and his three teen-aged sons – and on Tuesday evening they had to quit early and return home for a family event.

They were back Wednesday morning and finished by suppertime. I figure that two combines finished our fields in eight or nine hours.

I took a lot of pictures, many of them not very interesting. In fact, I didn’t think it was an interesting operation this year. The wind was blowing in the morning, so they worked the southernmost field first, away from the house, and when they came in close, they mostly came down the hill from the west. Sometimes the combines were hidden in a cloud of dust. And of course, they don't pause for picures. At any rate, I’m glad that I got to watch.

Wednesday morning as I walked Bess around the pond, I came upon a rattlesnake in tall grass between the barn and the pond. I scurried to the yard to get Mike, and by the time we made it back to the spot in question, the rattlesnake was crossing the path, heading to the pond. Once a rattler is discovered, it doesn’t stick around. This was our seventh rattler sighting this season.

Now that harvest is over, we look forward to better hiking options. Thursday morning, we walked across the field to the canyon. We came upon a large covey of chukars, but Mike says not to worry. They will disappear when the season opens. (Maybe that's why they call it "hunting.") KW

 

MORE 2025 PRE-HARVEST PHOTOS

Upon returning to the farm on Monday (Aug. 18), I was delighted to see that I didn’t miss harvest after all. The spring wheat still stands in our fields. “Don’t get too excited,” says Mike; “we may yet miss harvest.”

I watched as the neighbor’s field across the draw was plowed. I don’t think it was really plowed up, but they at least knocked down the stubble. We don’t know the reason for this. Is it fire prevention? Is it better preparation for next year’s crop? The farmer tells us that he will plant these fields in the spring.

I did a load of laundry this morning – not more than I could quickly remove from the line if the harvesters showed up. They didn’t.

I picked two zucchini, one tomato, and a handful of strawberries yesterday. We had a BLT for lunch. Delicious!

A couple of hummingbirds are still here, so I put out more nectar. However, some little buzzing insects are making it difficult for the hummers to get to the feeders. The wasps (or whatever they are) also plague Bess.

At dusk last night, two relatively small whitetail bucks with largish racks entered the yard and commenced to eat pears off the old tree in the orchard. They’ve been here before and have already consumed the fruit off the lower branches. I tried to get a picture through the window in the bathroom, but it was too dark They didn’t stay long once they saw us, but our presence is not much of a deterrent.

Mike left on his bicycle at 7:30 a.m., so I walked Bess and took more pre-harvest photos. KW

 

FINAL 2025 PRE-HARVEST PHOTOS (PROBABLY)

 

You should see Earl rise early, work and manage here. He insisted on harrowing the bean ground and using the big cultivator, etc., till it only took 4 ½ days to “lay by” 62 acres. In former years it would have taken a crew of 6 to 8 men two or three weeks at big wages to do it. – Ina Dobson, 7-30-1933

Combine on top of hill

The harvesters were working in the ‘hood as we left the farm Friday afternoon (Aug. 15). We hear them working on the next place over whether or not we see them. We expected them here sooner, so we’re disappointed that this stay at the farmhouse concluded before they arrived. By the time we return, they likely will have finished.

So, why did we leave the farm if we were looking forward to harvest? Well, Mike wanted to ride with cyclists Saturday morning, and as long as he was working out of our town base, he arranged a motorcycle ride for Sunday morning. AND – we were out of milk. We can’t get along without milk.

We still anticipate harvest, but the hustle and bustle of the season just isn’t what it was “back in the day” when workers were hired and fed. Even when I was a girl and harvest was managed by my dad and a helper or two, it was still an exciting time. I experience some carry-over from those days. Mother cooked on the old wood stove, but sometimes she cooked in her own town kitchen and carried the mid-day meal to the farm. Cooking in a modern kitchen was much easier – and cooler.

I remember how dirty harvesters used to get. My dad’s face was covered with dust except for the clean ring around his eyes caused by his goggles. Thank goodness for his goggles! Daddy did not leave the farm during harvest, so he “washed up” before bed in the old kitchen. In those days, he started early and quit at suppertime. These days, the harvest operation starts mid-morning and sometimes continues after dark. Those big machines have lights. 

Mother lamented the passing of the small family farm. “It was a good life,” she said, and our neighbor the late Neil Miller concurred. “It WAS a good life,” he agreed. The day came when Neil’s heir had to give up the farm operation and lease to a larger operation. We all did. KW 

CASE UPDATE PLUS PRE-HARVEST REPORT

Hallie’s letter regarding failure of authorities to release the investigative report on Milo Warnock’s murder appeared in the Lewiston Tribune of Sunday, Aug. 10. In substance, it’s the same as the letter from the Idaho Statesman that I posted last week. She also has a guest post (her longer essay on this issue) on the prison blog, Book of Irving #82431 – The Captive Perspective (here).

We continue to be deeply concerned about the issues that led to Milo’s untimely death. We live in devastating times for many people, and some might think that what happens at our prisons is of small importance. However, what comes out of our prisons affects our individual and collective future, and we consider that we have inherited a quest to seek and support better options for non-violent offenders. 

I don’t have Netflix, but Hallie says the 30-minute documentary, “The Quilters,” about a prison quilting program, is worth watching.

Still some green in the wheat

Here we are at the farm again, and apparently it’s no worse for wear after last week’s storm. The spring wheat still stands erect. The heat is excessive again – 95 yesterday afternoon. When I was a youngster, we thought 90 was hot – and it was! And we used to have pleasant summer rains from time to time, but today, even my drought-tolerant meadow “weeds” have to have some water in order to survive. At this time, excessive heat alerts and fire watches are in effect. Since we were in town over the weekend, the house was hot and stuffy when we arrived yesterday. The cooler overnight temps have made the house much more pleasant.

I thought the hummingbirds might have left, but when I saw two of them buzzing around the empty feeder. I quickly refilled it. Gotta keep the hummingbirds happy. Meanwhile, we continue to trap the wasps.

I picked two tomatoes, a handful of cherry tomatoes, three zucchini, and two yellow crooknecks. I also picked a few nice strawberries, oddly enough from one of my original plants that made a comeback. Other plants are sending out runners, and I let them. You know, it’s just pretty hot out there for the vegetation. I’m grateful for any produce we get. KW

THE AUTUMN DAYS OF AUGUST

Two whitetail doe, looking back to see if I was looking back to see if they were looking back . . .

A storm hit at the farm on Thursday evening (July 31), delivering more than half an inch of rain and providing a welcome break in the summer heat. Fortunately, we saw it coming and closed the windows. I congratulated myself that I didn’t have to mop water off the floor. We enjoyed a brief break in the summer heat.

Still curious to see if I was still curious

Some town activities were calling to Mike – returning a package, the monthly motorcyclists’ meeting, bicycle work, and unloading the Scotch pine from the old pick-up, so on Friday (Aug. 1), we traveled back to town through intermittent showers. For my part, I left things in town on the last trip, so I was happy for the chance to reorganize. And of course, Bess loves going to the beach on a hot afternoon. She doesn’t forget about retrieving balls from the river.

And now, during this past week at the farm, the days have been pleasant and decidedly fallish. I wonder if it will be really hot again, but apparently we have more heat in the forecast. Even so, fall is in the air.

Pre-harvest spring wheat

Much of harvest is done here, but the spring wheat remains and isn’t ready. It rained almost a quarter of an inch during the early morning hours today, and it looks like it could rain again. I suspect the farmers aren’t happy with the moisture at this time, but my vegetables in raised beds have enjoyed the relief. I used three young zucchini to make zucchini bread yesterday, and I picked tomatoes (still on the green side) and a few strawberries.

A few hummingbirds still visit the feeders, but they don’t make much demand on the nectar. It could be time to store the feeders. I just don't know. We have wasps in traps, but it seems to me we have fewer than in past years. Fine by me.

Oh! And how could I forget! Yesterday Mike rode us out to the black hawthorn tree on the other side of June’s field, and we picked haws for an hour, coming back with more than five pounds. I now have two quarts of haw juice in the freezer. It’s so hard to know how to cook the country berries and make the jelly since it’s not a common practice. Recipes and tips can be found online, but the problem is the variation in the berries from region to region – and perhaps even from year to year. But – the elderberry crop that looked so promising while in bloom has not developed well, nor did the serviceberries, so we picked the haws. 

The photos below were taken this morning (Thursday, Aug. 7).

PEOPLE HAVE THE RIGHT TO KNOW

The following letter written by daughter Hallie was published in the Idaho Statesman (Boise) on Sunday, August 3. Hallie is our "team leader" as we seek justice for son Milo's wrongful death while incarcerated. KW

Moscow police released hundreds of unsealed documents related to the Kohberger case, just hours after the sentencing. While disturbing to read, the public has a right to access such information.

Milo Warnock

In April, James Johnson was sentenced for murdering his cellmate, Milo Warnock, at Idaho State Correctional Center. Afterward, I requested investigatory reports from Idaho State Police but was denied, citing exemptions for law enforcement and correctional records. In actuality, those records may be subject to release, but will require petitioning the denial.

At best, the state imposes obstacles to prevent releasing information. At worst, it hides its own incompetence, corruption and culpability. Either way, it is disrespectful to the citizens that it serves. The right to records isn’t about sensationalizing a tragedy but ensuring transparency and accountability. Even if no one ever requests a report, the possibility encourages thorough investigations.

When individuals entrusted in the care of the state are harmed, it is of utmost importance that the public has visibility into those transgressions. Incarcerated individuals are a vulnerable population, unable to exercise choices to maximize personal safety. We cannot wholly trust that the system will do the right thing in the absence of oversight and influence of public opinion. HWJ

HALFWAY AND BACK

Halfway is a town in Baker County, Oregon, in the northeast part of the state. The town took its name from the location of its post office on the Alexander Stalker ranch, halfway between Pine and Jim Town. The population was 351 at the 2020 census. The closest town of any size is Baker City, 54 miles to the west. 

A couple of years ago my riding partner, Sam, and I visited this quaint little town on one of our motorcycle trips. Almost all the homes in town appear to have been built in the early 1900’s when the town originated but have been maintained in great shape. Most of them have fantastic flower gardens in the yard. In fact, most of the yards are flowers.  

I was so impressed with this little town that I wanted my son, Clint, to experience it. We departed Friday, the 25th of July heading south from the Lewiston-Clarkston valley on WA highway 129. This becomes OR Highway 3 when it crosses the the Grande Ronde River which is state line at the bottom of Rattlesnake Grade. Rattlesnake Grade and Buford Grade up the other side are two of the premier motorcycle grades in the country. I’ve ridden in every county in the West and ridden such famous grades as The Million Dollar Highway near Durango, CO, and Beartooth Pass on the northeast side of Yellowstone, and they have nothing on the Rattlesnake and Buford Grades. 

 I have a new GPS (Garmin Zumo 396 LMT-S) and I wanted to see if I could incorporate it in my geocaching activities. I uploaded the caches in the Zumo to take me to the general area and then used my Garmin 64SX handheld unit to zero in on the cache. We stopped before reaching Enterprise and after parking our bikes on a rough side road hiked about a ¼ mile back to the cache at the edge of the canyon which presented a fantastic panoramic view of mountains around Hells Canyon. At Enterprise, OR, we turned west on Hwy 82 and rode it over to the Island City area where we got on Hwy 203 which is a beautiful little country road. We stopped for lunch on this road at State Creek Park campground. It was almost full but we found a nice shady table to relax and eat lunch. 

Boars

It was beginning to get hot. It was about 63 degrees when we left home and 94 by the time we reached Halfway about 2:30. We stopped for gas in Baker City and proceeded east on Hwy 86 to Halfway, stopping for three more geocaches along the way. 

 After settling in at the motel we toured the town including the old cemetery on foot. We had a good meal at “The Main Place” and after leaving the waitress ran me down to deliver my hat which I typically had left. 

Mike & Camel

 We got an early start the next morning and rode east to Oxbow Dam on the Snake River. After lingering a while and reading the information signs at a kiosk we retraced our route a few miles back to Hwy 39 and the Wallowa Mountain Road which took us northwest to Joseph, OR. This road is a motorcyclist dream with many sharp curves and hills all the while surrounded by forest. We stopped just before Joseph and on a side road and picked up another cache and then rode the short way over to Enterprise before retracing our route back home getting to ride those two fantastic grades again. We got home about noon so avoided most of the heat. It was a great trip. M/W

Pictures are of yards and art work in Halfway.

Typical Halfway Yards

Part of the museum (wasn't open)

Historical Display

More Halfway Artwork

KEEPING COOL

When we’re in town on these hot days, we exercise Bess at the beach late in the afternoon. She loves to chase the balls that Mike throws into the river for her. About 3:00, she begins to remind us about the beach. At first, it’s just a gentle nudge with the snout and/or lying at my feet. As time passes, she becomes more insistent. If we don’t go for some reason, she more than mopes through the evening, sending the message that we have greatly disappointed her.

As we left the beach Sunday evening, I could see that a storm was building. It’s interesting that because we have those weather apps, we sometimes fail to use our God-given senses to read the weather. Well, at 2:30 a.m., I awoke to thunder and lightning. Bess did, too, and whined about it, so I brought her into the house. This did not immediately settle her, though. She told me how much she hates thunder and lightning. And then she woke Mike up and complained to him. “Make it stop! Make it stop!” she whined.

Note the deer. They knew I was on the porch.

Well, we didn’t make the storm stop, but it wasn’t all that close anyway. It left us with .01 inch of rain – hardly noticeable.

As we drove into the farm on Monday (July 28), we saw that some fields have already been cut while others seem ready. I could hear machines working in the distance yesterday. Our fields (spring wheat) are still too green, as you can see by the photos.

In the evening, we watched as a storm developed to the south. A wonderful cool breeze wafted through the open window. But it didn’t last. It didn’t cool the house appreciably, and it didn’t deliver any rain here.

This afternoon, I took a picture of field burning on the other side of the canyon. The smoke clouds seem to dissipate quickly.

I was reading today about planting a fall garden – a “second summer garden,” they called it. You know, I’ve never understood how to do that. It’s so hot through August that seeds don’t germinate, and by the time September arrives, the plants understand that autumn is on the way. Besides growing cooler, the days are shorter. 

I picked four strawberries, four young zucchini, one regular tomato, and five cherry tomatoes. We'll have zucchini with our pork chops for supper. KW

The pond lies behind this row of trees.

MOTHER'S POLAROID CAMERA

My grandfather, Charlie Portfors (on left), with his brother, Andrew Portfors, c. 1960

Some weeks back, we watched Mr. Polaroid, an episode of American Experience on PBS, which reminded me of the polaroid camera Mother bought about 1960.

My dad was our family photographer, and his pictures were slides, which meant we only saw them through a small viewer or when projected onto a screen. I loved watching a “slide show,” but those happened infrequently. You know, back in the day, it was a subject of jokes that evening visitors were forced to watch a boring slide show. Very few slides became prints, and now if slides are of questionable historical value, just imagine how much pictorial history we'll lose with the digital age.  

Anyway, Mother was interested in having some control of photo ops, and that polaroid camera at the jewelry store intrigued her. I used to have a photo of Mother and Daddy as the store owner demonstrated that camera.

Mother took the above photo of her father, Charlie Portfors, and his brother Andrew with her new camera. Uncle Andy, 11 years younger than Grandpa, lived in Canada and visited every other year or so. The first picture Mother took didn’t turn out, so she took another – the one that you see here. She then sang the praises of that camera which allowed her to immediately take advantage of the moment with a better photo. Today, with our digital cameras, we think nothing of taking several photos of the same subject, but in that era, picture-taking constituted an expense, even an extravagance.

Developing a picture taken with that camera was a process. As I recall, after taking the picture, you pulled it out of the camera, and then you had to wait 60 seconds before removing a protective paper. Once you had your photo in hand, it seemed like magic, but you weren’t finished yet. You had to apply a smelly chemical and wait for that to dry. Now your photo was finished, and if you wished, you could affix it to the cardboard backing provided in the kit.

But – before long, that camera lapsed into obsolescence. The camera still worked just fine but the film was discontinued. It was disappointing. Was the camera already obsolete when she bought it? Probably. Did the seller know and just not tell her? Maybe. Today, we are savvy about changing technology, but in the “old days,” we learned the hard way.

My folks were conservative when it came to taking pictures, and the polaroid camera didn’t change their philosophy. Mother didn’t take many photos, and many of them didn’t age well. But I’m pleased that the one of my grandfather and his brother has withstood the years.

The camera was still in the cupboard when we moved Mother from the house in 1991. I threw it away. KW

FALL IN THE AIR

Looking south

Honestly, just looking outside on Monday (July 21), I could have believed it was early October. It was overcast with occasional rain and a temp that hovered at 60. Remember how it was excessively hot just three days ago?

We need the rain, though. While watching the water and heat devastation hitting the Midwest and East Coast, they never mention the Pacific Northwest. “That’s a good thing,” says a friend, and I agree. At the same time, we have our own weather-related problems here – drought! -- and I wonder how we fit into the overall picture of weather change.

When I got dressed, I exchanged my nighttime pajamas for my daytime pajamas – warm-ups, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a hoodie. Yes, that’s my wintertime uniform.

A can of pumpkin puree was calling my name, but searching the cupboard, I found that it was calling from the town house. The day seemed right for pumpkin bread, and a little heat in the house wouldn’t hurt, but it won’t be pumpkin bread. What else could I use to make quick bread? Zucchini? The squash on my vines is still quite young, but I picked two anyway. Grated they made one cup, so I made a half recipe.

Tuesday (July 22) was a little warmer, but I was still comfortable in my winter uniform. Even though we received .14 inch of rain during this cool spell, I watered my plants well and refilled the plant nannies. It’s back to town tomorrow, and it will be hot while we’re gone.

Looking north

I have picked three cherry tomatoes, two strawberries, six young zucchini, and one young crookneck. We have perhaps a dozen lovely tomatoes slowly ripening on their vines. Last year, the tomatoes didn’t set on until August. We had to pick a lot of them while still green, but they continued to ripen. Son Murray laughed that he couldn’t eat BLTs until October. This year, they set on early but are ripening slowly, and later blooms have yet to develop into fruit. I wonder if they will.

Mike and I saw a baby rattlesnake at the pond the other evening. When I see a young’un, I wonder where the nest is. KW 

SNAKE TALES

Taken July 14

Bess’ doghouse is inside the woodshed. At bedtime, she goes into her house, and Mike closes (but doesn’t lock) the woodshed door. She can easily come out, but she doesn’t. In the morning, Mike opens the woodshed and Bess comes out of her house and greets the day. 

Friday morning, as Mike went to get Bess up, discovered a rattlesnake just inside the woodshed door. Bess, who had evidently been sleeping, was now wide awake and barking. I knew what that bark meant and rushed out with the camera. Mike held the snake in tongs while I found a suitable bucket. After breakfast, Mike released the snake into the canyon. I know that our neighbors would much prefer that we kill the snakes, but Mike refuses. The snake didn’t seem very long, but Mike thought it had at least 12 rattles. This was our fifth rattler sighting of the season.

At bedtime, Mike said Bess gave the doorway of the shed a cautious but thorough sniffing before entering her house. Apparently those snake have quite an aroma about them. And yes, Bess has had her annual rattlesnake anti-venom inoculation.  

Mike just called me down to the maple tree to observe a four-foot bull snake poking its head into rodent holes.

July 19

After several excessively hot days, it has cooled down. It’s only 77 this afternoon and might not get to 70 tomorrow. Rain would be most welcome. In fact, Mike said that those big elderberry blossom heads are drying up without developing berries. Like I said, you can’t count on fruit even if it looks good. Things happen.

July 19

The other day, I picked another quart of cherries, and they were dark, sweet, and juicy. I must make a note in my 5-year planner to pick mid-July. A few cherries had been nibbled by the birds, but there were still plenty for all of us.

Mike and I left the farm on Monday (July 14) and returned Thursday (July 17). The change in the spring wheat was amazing in just those three days. It’s ripening rapidly now. KW