A RANT ON MOTHER’S DAY

 I’m always very happy over my Mother’s Day remembrances. I feel lifted up and carried along on my children’s love and faith and feel like life has been successful after all. So accept my appreciation of all you have meant to me and of your gift and thought on this last Mother’s Day. I heard from you all on Friday except Ethel. Her $1.00 bill and lovely card came Saturday. Myrtle sent a pair of very nice fabric gloves in a light tan, a perfect fit, and Shirley just raves over them. She also sent a half dozen very pretty flower packets [seeds]. Pearl sent $2.00 and a letter. Irl and Bernice sent a nice print dress. I shall use the $1.00 bills to get new curtains etc., which are needed and will do so much to add to our pleasure in the house. – Ina Dobson to her son Vance, June 1933

My husband, my children, my childhood chum, and a few P.E.O. sisters know that I am capable of ranting when I feel strongly on a given subject. And here’s one that’s been repeating in my mind every spring for years.

Mother’s Day is less than two weeks away, and the promotions from online retailers are in full swing. I find the idea of equating appreciation to the expense of a gift distasteful. I was not raised to think this way. Gifts were thoughtful simple things. 

Perhaps I sound like an ingrate, but as a mother, what do I want anyway? I want my children to live fulfilling lives, take care of themselves and their families, contribute to the world in positive ways, save for the future, and if applicable, straighten up and fly right! I don’t want them to spend time and money on me frivolously. And above all, I don’t want them to feel guilty about a thing – not a thing! If for some reason they don’t call or write on Mother’s Day, I will readily forgive. This date was established by humans to be a simple celebration of motherhood, and the failure to observe it should not constitute a guilt trip. I hear from my children all the time and they respond when we need them. What more do I want?

I know not everyone feels this way. Obviously, we see by Ina’s words that even in 1933, she treasured what she received on “her day.” And believe me, she expected it, too! (Whew! I’m so glad Vance didn’t forget!) But – it was a different time and a different place. Life on the homestead, or small family farm, was at best subsistence living, and whatever Ina received from her children was well-appreciated. I also know that with the exception of Earle, who was a school teacher, those children didn’t have dollar bills to spare.

In the bigger picture, I can empathize with those women for whom Mother’s Day is bittersweet. Within motherhood is heartache – loss, sacrifice, estrangement, and unfulfilled hopes. And perhaps the mothering qualities of some go unsung. Sometimes the hype seems cruel.

Don’t get me started on Grandparent’s Day! KW

SPICY CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP

“I dunno,” I said, as Mike and I selected a variety of soups at the grocery store. Mike suggested Campbell’s “Spicy Chicken Noodle Soup,” but I was skeptical. I have never cared for spicey heat, and moreover, my system doesn’t tolerate it.

But just this once I agreed on one can of Spicy Chicken Noodle Soup, and then it was sitting on my pantry shelf. It was either avoid it forever or get rid of it, so the other day I warmed it for lunch. 

Mike took the first spoonful. “I don’t think you’ll be able to eat this, Kathy,” he said.

So, I dipped my spoon into the broth, took one very small sip, and immediately went into a coughing fit. “No one should eat it,” I wheezed when I had recovered enough. The Campbell company wasn’t kidding when they labeled it “spicy,” and I wasn’t kidding when I said no one should eat it, but Mike finished his serving. I put the leftover soup in the fridge, but the next day Mike advised me to toss it, agreeing that no one should eat it.

Actually, we’ve had this soup before and while I thought it was unpleasant, I didn’t think it was inedible. It seemed like this can got a double dose of the spices. Whatever – I won’t buy it again.

When I was a girl, I often visited elderly relatives in nursing homes with my parents, and I remember the soft diet delivered to the residents – white bread and a pat of butter, cottage cheese, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, bananas, pudding for dessert, canned fruit, etc. Bland and unappealing. I’m pleased that we can still eat regular food, but I draw the line at Spicy Chicken Noodle Soup. KW

WORK DAYS AT THE FARM

Snow on the distant mountain

On Wednesday (April 16), Mike and I spent our first overnighter of the year at the farm.

The pond is full but not overflowing

We both worked hard. We took half a dozen red valerian from our town garden and planted them in the orchard. We’ve tried before, and they didn’t make it, so we’re trying earlier this year. Perhaps it's too early.

It’s a prolific pine cone year, so I cleared the yard of them before Mike mowed. I also fed the gopher holes. The rest of my day was devoted to cleaning. We have no internet yet, and I missed it.

Mike made repairs and mowed the lawn. He also did some barn cleaning.

Cottonwood Butte

Late afternoon, we took our customary walk. Our fields haven’t been planted yet, so we walked up Plank’s Pitch and back to the house across June’s field. Bess was so happy! She ran and ran and ran. As for the condition of the fields, some standing water is evident, but on the whole, the ground isn’t muddy.

Supper was leftovers brought from town. I was so glad not to have to cook! In the evening, we watched TV, and as we did, a herd of at least 17 white-tail came into the yard – mostly young ones supervised by a few larger does. No bucks. They had a good time frolicking in the yard, probably playing “white-tail games.” Bess just sat on her porch perch watching them, making no effort to chase them off.

Another pond picture looing eastward

It was not warm, and the wind blew all afternoon and through much of the night. I know it came from the north in the night because it blew right into our bedroom. (Mike always sleeps with the window open.) I don’t think it froze, but the overnight temp was in the 30s.

Thursday was another workday. Mike discovered some downed limbs in the north field that will make good firewood. I convinced him to postpone that work for another day, but he wants to take care of it before Farmer Kyle plants.

I continued to disinfect the kitchen, and as I did, I baked a cake. Mike sprayed the weeds in the lane.

Proud Papa?

In the afternoon, Bess and I took a walk around the pond, and just as I was ready to return to the house, I noticed a mallard drake swimming lazily. I suspect he was guarding a family in the reeds, but I didn’t see them.

Back in town Thursday evening, I pulled meatloaf from the freezer – instant comfort food, and we needed it. And of course, I brought the cake back with us. KW

OLD-FASHIONED EASTER GREETINGS

 

SPRINGTIME AT THE FARM

Mike and I (and Bess, of course) made a trip to the farm on Saturday (April 12). Mike had loaded the 4-wheeler into the bed of the pick-up, and we trailered the lawnmower. It always makes me nervous to travel like that, but hopefully it’s over now until fall.

The trip along the Clearwater was spectacular. The serviceberry bushes were beautiful on the hillsides, dressed in their feathery white spring blossoms. Occasional trees wearing pink finery added a nice contrast. At the farm, it was wonderful to see the daffodils and the fritillaria in bloom, and the violets added a purple touch. The lilacs, now in bloom in the Valley, are just leafing out in the upper country. The fruit trees and rhubarb are making their comeback.

We de-winterized the farmhouse plumbing, and that went fairly well except that the faucet on the water tank leaked. We had to empty the tank so that Mike could apply sealant to the faucet and then refill it.

As always, the work beckons, and it’s easier to talk about it than to do it. A thorough housecleaning is in order, and once again, I hope to grow wonderful vegetables in the raised beds. I’m thinking of expanding my growing capabilities with containers. We’ll see. The original raised bed needs to be reworked and repaired before I can plant in it. One thing is certain, it’s of absolutely no use to plant anything unless it’s fenced.

We had no mice in traps, but I did find a random deceased mouse under the dining room table.

TRIP TO BOISE -- RECAP

It just makes you rave to think that it’s like a trip to another country to get to the southern part of your own state. – Ina Dobson, 1934

We never travel to Boise but what I think of the above quote from my grandmother. Today we travel the same route that Ina complained about 90 years ago, winding through agricultural country, forests, and mountain passes. Stretches of the highway have been improved. Here and there we have a passing lane and perhaps the road is smoother, but it's still a tedious drive subject to slow traffic, weather, and erosion. In fact, Hwy 95 south of New Meadows is closed due to a slide which took out a stretch of half the road. We had to use Hwy 55, which we expected to be heavily trafficked, especially for the trip home Friday afternoon. However, we were pleasantly surprised and made good time.  

If memory serves, for the first time ever, we boarded Bess. She stayed at the “Fur Family Cinema,” a pet boarding facility at the defunct Orchards Cinema. We missed her. As we traveled, we just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was riding along with us. She would have preferred to be, I’m sure.

I struggled to know what to wear to court. I ordered a beautiful suit, but when it came, I saw that it was too dressy. I also realized that I would never have a place to wear it, so I returned it without even trying it on. I thought about wearing a t-shirt with Milo’s name on it, and that would have been fine, but I had second thoughts and Mike suggested that I should feel confident in my attire. I opted for a spring sweatshirt and a pair of black slacks. And speaking of black slacks, I have four pair that have been in my closet since I retired 18 years ago. Unbeknownst to me, the elastic in the waistbands had spent those years quietly relaxing. I should buy a new pair – just one – and let the old ones go.

As I suspected, the dress at court was rather casual. The attorneys were more formal in suits with or without ties, but the support staff wore jeans. And of course, it’s a great mystery what the judges wear under their robes.

Well, the court visit didn’t solve anything for us. People have been so kind, but the perception persists that the inmates deserve whatever happens to them in prison. Actually,  statistics show that more than half of the incarcerated could better serve some other sort of consequence for their infraction. If they are employed, their contribution to the economy more than offsets the cost of incarceration. And if they lose employment through incarceration, they will likely struggle to find a job and a place to live when they get out. And – if they aren’t mentally ill when they go in, they likely will be when they come out. KW 

YET ANOTHER ARTICLE ON SENTENCING

It's raining today and the cherry tree is already dropping her petals.

We were surprised but pleased to see a second article about the sentencing of Milo's murderer which appeared in the Idaho Statesman this morning (Monday, April 7). You can read it here. 

Mike and I had to laugh about his red-rimmed eyes. We hadn't noticed, but we thought it was a nice touch.

We were pleased for the positive comments made about Milo during the court session. They said he had been a model inmate, keeping to himself. The defense said, if I heard correctly, that Milo understood his own mental illness and the effect that his medication had on his body, and he also understood his cellmate's mental illness. In fact, Milo had submitted a request for treatment for his cellmate which evidently went unheeded. While this is documented, this is the first we had heard.

The judge allowed the defendant to speak, and he rambled on mostly incoherently for 15 minutes, but even he said that he and Milo should not have been together. The defendant's counsel and the judge recommended treatment for him, and the judge also recommended that he be housed where he can't hurt others, but she also stated that jurisdiction over the prison is an executive function. 

We have heard that infractions such as Milo committed (cheeking his medication) no longer result in such harsh punishment, and this is progress. I hope for more change. The sad thing is that someone, in our case Milo, had to die before the prison would even acknowledge the need for change. KW

SENTENCING

Together with three of our children, Mike and I attended the sentencing of Milo’s murderer in Boise on Friday, April 4. Hallie, Mike, and I delivered victim impact statements. You can read an account of the sentencing from the Idaho Statesman here. KW

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS' DAY

 

This undated postcard was undoubtedly just handed to my dad by his cousin since she lived on the adjacent farm. It bears no postmark. I'll just guess it was between 1910 and 1915. It's the only April Fools card in my collection.

It seems like April Fools' Day has been celebrated for hundreds of years, but the history is speculative -- maybe this, maybe that. 

Mike wished me a happy April Fools' Day, but he knows that I don't enjoy pranks. I told him I would avoid the issue by staying in the house and keeping quiet. 

We had several rain showers yesterday with clouds and sun in between. March didn't exactly go out like a lamb but neither was it much of a lion. KW