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

THUNDER AND LIGHTNING, OH MY!

 

Unseasonable warmth brought full bloom

We are blessed to have our grandson, 3-year-old Silas, at a time when day-brighteners mean so much. We enjoy hearing of his experiences as he learns about the world.

The other day, someone told me that a fluke storm was predicted for the west coast between Seattle and Portland. She said her brother was actually readying his home for excessive wind and rain, including nailing plywood over the windows. So, I reached out to daughter Hallie to see if they were preparing for a big storm, but she only knew of a thunderstorm alert. This morning, she sent me the following account of watching the lightning with young Silas:

“We only had a little thunder and lightning yesterday evening. The thunder was low and long and the lightning was a few flashes in the sky but not bolts. Silas was interested, so I held him while we looked out the back door window. We didn’t see anything, so we went to read on the bed. Then the thunder started acting up, so we stood on the bed in the dark to look out the high window.

“Finally, a good flash happened and I gasped with excitement. Silas hit the deck like he’d been shot! As he lay curled at my knee, I asked him if it scared him, and he said yes. I apologized for gasping and told him I was just so excited. He asked if the lightning would get him, and I told him that it wouldn’t. It would stay in the sky. (We’ll learn more about lightning safety when he’s older.) I told him that it’s like a great big flashlight in the sky and it says, ‘ready or not, here I come!’ He laughed.”

We had two days (March 25 and 26) of record-setting high temps – in the low 80s – here in the Valley. As one might expect when the weather is unseasonably warm, we also had a lightning storm last night but not much thunder. Today, it’s much cooler – hovering at 60. KW

YAY! SPRING HAS SPRUNG!

The warm temps have brought the imitation cherry tree into bloom

It was in the 80s yesterday and today, but don’t put away your sweatshirts or winter PJs just yet. Supposedly more seasonable temps are on the way (highs in the 50s & 60s) and will continue for several weeks.

But spring is here. I see forsythia in bloom as well as other flowering bushes, and the daffodils bend and bow in the breeze. We’ve had quite a lot of wind and not too much rain.

It did rain on Sunday though (3-23), and Mike and I killed some time by getting groceries. While we were at Albertsons, we visited JoAnn’s. The shelves aren’t quite bare, and the prices are still kinda high. Some areas have signs announcing that more merchandise will arrive soon, while other aisles are bare and taped off. Actually, I saw quite a lot of fabric – 50% off, 2-yard minimum cut, but the yarn is mostly gone unless they get another shipment. I had no trouble walking out empty handed.

I have started seedlings in trays under grow lights, but honestly, I think I was just as successful when I sprouted them in peat pots in the kitchen window, plus they needed less handling. Perhaps it’s not too late to do that, especially for planting at the farm.

I’m sorry I haven’t had a lot to say. Writing my talk for court in Boise next week has renewed my anger, and the muse went away, except for the one that’s writing the talk, of course. I have had more senior moments than I care to divulge, like leaving the kitchen faucet on, neglecting to turn off the stove, and steaming the broccoli in a dry pan. (So glad that the warm temps have allowed us to air the house. That burned broccoli odor really lingers.) I’m hopeful that once the court visit is over, I’ll have better focus. I’d hate to think it’s time for the condo or assisted living, but I will accept graciously if/when I must. KW

BREEZY MARCH

“Dang it!” said Mike. He had planned a bike ride yesterday afternoon – and the day before that and the day before that – but windy conditions prevailed. The wind at your back is fine but headwinds and crosswinds are no fun. Yesterday, he took Bess on a long hike in lieu of a bike ride, but today he was determined to cycle, wind and all. 

It froze again last night – 28 this morning. The forecast is for highs in the 70s next week, working up to almost 80 on Wednesday the 26^th, if this forecast can be believed. Then the highs drop back into the 60s and it might rain. I say, “might rain,” because so often it doesn’t. Overall, I guess we shouldn’t complain about our mild weather.

The daffodils have begun to trumpet that spring is here, and with their announcement we see the need to pull weeds, cut back old growth, and get rid of that pesky grass! 

I’m off on another project tangent, putting everything aside to crochet a shrug, or shoulderette, to wear to court in a couple of weeks. My basic outfit is a t-shirt over black slacks, so I thought something that might dress it up a bit would be nice. I have ordered two shirts from this Etsy company. The first, a medium, was snug, so this one I ordered in a large, and it's way BIG. Too late. I'll just have to make the best of it. 

Meanwhile, I have been on an emotional roller-coaster as I prepare my speech. KW 

MORE EXCITEMENT THAN WE COULD STAND

Ken, our friend and Mike’s hunting buddy, was called out of town on a family emergency, so he boarded his dog Zeda. (Or is it Zeta? I’m really not sure.) Ken’s previous dog Pepper passed to the great dog park in the beyond some months ago, and friends allowed him to take Zeda, one of their several German Shorthairs, so that he could continue his bird-hunting adventures. She’s six years old – a beautiful white dog with brown patches. She’s a good hunter, but she’s nervous, skittish, and afraid of her own shadow, other dogs, and unfamiliar surroundings.

When Ken was called out of town due to a family emergency, he boarded Zeda at a veterinary clinic, and Mike agreed to exercise her from time to time. We have helped with Ken’s dogs for years while he traveled. Ken suggested a certain locale along the river where he often exercises her, so on Monday, we checked Zeda out of the facility and took her to that place. Before we had gone very far, she bolted and ran back to the car. The point was that she should exercise, and she clearly wasn’t having any of it.

The arrow indicates Zeda's location (photo from 2016)

So, on Wednesday, we tried again. About 4:00, we picked up Zeda and went to the dog park at Swallows Nest, which is bordered by a fence on one side and the river on the other. We thought she would be safely confined. WRONG! She ran to the other side of the park and then to a “pond” on the south side. Naturally, we humans couldn’t keep up, and Bess just didn’t care. When we got to the pond, Zeda had swum to the other side (Mike estimates 100 yards) and was seeking a way to climb the bank. The only way to get to her was to leave the dog park and go around the long way on dry land, which Mike did. He managed to retrieve her and brought her back on leash. And that’s when the real excitement began.

Mike had re-entered the park with Zeda on leash when another dog approached her and she freaked out. She slipped her collar, ducked under the gate, and ran across the highway (scary!). “I hate when they do that,” another dog owner remarked. Mike caught sight of Zeda running up the hill, so we jumped in the car and drove around that neighborhood looking for her. As it happens, Ken lives in that vicinity, so we stopped at his house several times, thinking she might go there.

So, we went back to the vet’s and reported Zeda as a runaway. Long story short, the vet posted her on Facebook as a missing dog, and apparently a couple of girls saw this and happened to spot her not far from the vet’s. Between the girls and the vet, they nabbed her about 5:45. Mike and I were so relieved.

"All’s well that ends well," we said, and then we added, "Never again!"  Zeda can just do without exercise. KW

THE READINESS IS ALL

I drove into town to shop Albertsons, and once I had parked, I made a beeline for JoAnn’s. Yes, the store is still open, draped in big banners announcing closure. In fact, I was surprised at how much merchandise is still available, and I didn’t think the deals were as good as they were last week. Perhaps they’re trying to maximize their sales, and who would blame them, but 10, 20, and 40 percent off did not entice me to buy. Lots of fabric is still in stock, but now the minimum is a two-yard cut at 25% off. As I’ve said, I’m trying to use the fabric I have, and I definitely don’t need 2-yard cuts. I didn’t even look at the fabric.

I think it’s odd that JoAnn recently began branding a sewing machine. According to my research, they didn’t manufacture them but rebranded existing machines, such as Singer. They had quite a supply of JoAnn machines at my store – only 10% off.

So, I walked out of JoAnn’s empty handed. This would not be the case at Albertsons where I searched out the specials. The times feel uncertain to us, so once again I’m thinking in terms of preparedness. I bought flour and toilet paper and even found eggs at half price. We can use various substitutes for eggs, but in my opinion, nothing works as well as an actual egg.

Speaking of eggs, I saw Cadbury eggs at the checkout stand and thought of Milo. He loved those Cadbury Crème Eggs, and each year at Easter, he allowed himself one. Just one. KW

MUSINGS ON CHANGE

It froze again last night. The high today is in the mid-50s.

Get ready – DST this weekend. Spring your clock ahead an hour on Sunday (March 9).

I must keep my thoughts warm and flexible amidst the turmoil, I tell myself. No grudges. No resentment. It’s important! But sometimes it’s hard.

As I looked at my phone last night, I realized that I no longer need the JoAnn app, so I removed it. I also unsubscribed from JoAnn email. “All stores closing,” it says, so no use to cling to the past, but it’s the end of a long era. I wasn’t paying much attention anyway. I long ago realized that the coupons didn’t make much difference for the little I spent at the store, especially when the discounts only applied to regular-priced merchandise, and at JoAnn’s, most everything was on sale. And now, of course, there are no coupons. It’s just that I will miss JoAnn at that little shopping center where I also bought groceries. No more “one stop shopping.”

A new fabric / yarn shop has opened in town, and I was amused to read that open days and hours are limited – only Wednesday through Saturday and different hours most every day with no evening hours. Maybe it will work. I wish them well. But I was just thinking – if I need some handwork notion, I can order it Sunday and have it Tuesday, literally before the shop re-opens. The new shop may appeal to quilters who demand the best quality fabric for their work, but I’ve always thought those people are in the minority of sewists.

And then we heard that the reporter who covered Milo’s wrongful death with accurate, thoughtful articles has left the local newspaper to pursue a new opportunity. She kindly sent a personal notification to our family and said that another reporter will take over future installments of our story, but still, it seems like a loss. Silly to feel that way, I know.

Early next month, Mike and I and other family members (Murray, Clinton, and Hallie) will travel to Boise to attend the sentencing of Milo’s murderer. Immediate family members have the right to address the defendant, and every day I rehearse my speech. I’m a homebody – always have been – so it’s not easy for me to step up to this. It’s not the speaking but the travel and the break in my routine that causes me angst. I’m one angry mama, and I am more than happy to air my views, but I will be relieved when it’s over. KW

UNSEASONABLY WARM TEMPS

Our valley highs have been in the mid-60s with lows just above freezing. I wouldn’t plant outside yet, but I’m thinking of starting my tomato plants. I read that it’s recommended to plant squash directly into the soil for better root development, so I’ll do that.

Yesterday, Mike spent an hour clearing out the bed on the west side of the house. He’s anxious to spray the graveled areas with a pre-
emergent, so we went to the farm this morning to get the sprayer.

Farm report:

We saw patches of snow here and there, especially where it had drifted or piled up. Clearly, the snow is melting. The thermometer on the kitchen porch read 38, but it was warm in the sun. We were comfortable in our sweatshirts. Water was standing in the low places, such as between the barn and the pond, but otherwise the ground wasn’t saturated. We’re happy to report that the lane didn’t wash out and we had no problem driving in.

Rodents abound in the yard – a real infestation, but we only had two mice in traps in the house. This probably just means that they’re avoiding the traps.

Mike found the duck decoy that held the aerator hose on the bank of the pond with its nose chewed off. And that’s strange. Some animal must have thought it was real and drug it out of the pond. We have more decoys in the attic if Mike decides to replace it.

The early daffodils are just poking through the soil.

I see plenty of work in my future, but it’s on hold for another month or six weeks. KW

SPRING ON THE WAY

 

The high temps will soon be in the 60s with lows above freezing. The days carry reminders that spring will come after all. It was lovely today, but even if the sun doesn’t shine quite so brightly, we still see the daffodils pushing up and the trees budding out. The days are noticeably longer, and by the way, the switch to daylight savings time is coming right up – March 9.

But – all danger of frost is not past. It was 32 again this morning, even though our daily highs have approached 60.

Last Sunday (Feb. 23), Mike and I drove to Moscow for a presentation of the Edwin Moses documentary, Moses: 13 Steps. Moses was in attendance to introduce the movie and then respond to a “guided Q&A.”

We left home about 3:00. A winter weather alert specified an atmospheric river, but it didn’t happen in the Valley. Instead, we found it as we drove across the Palouse. It was dark and foggy, and the heavy rainfall resulted in water on the highway. I thought it was scary.

The movie commenced 15 minutes late and lasted 105 minutes. Who except me would have counted those minutes? The fun part was the opportunity to see a movie in the old theater of my college days. It’s now operated as a non-profit for presentations, plays, and vintage movies.

After the movie, the interview began. I thought the questions were rather intellectual and didn’t spark my interest. Between the third and fourth questions, Mike motioned that we should leave. The atmospheric river still flowed freely until we reached the brow of the Lewiston Hill, where it gradually decreased to an intermittent drizzle. We arrived home at 7:30, and I for one was grateful to be here. I even turned down Mike’s offer to pick up food and made creamed tuna on toast for our late supper. (Note to self: plan better next time.)

What did we think of the movie? Well, Moses is considered the greatest 400-meter hurdler of all time, an athletic phenom, and I think this is the reason a person would make the effort to see him in person and watch the movie. While it certainly encompassed his athletic career, Mike and I agreed that somehow the presentation of his athletic accomplishment felt like an afterthought. And this is all I should say because beyond cheering my children on – and this was a long time ago – athletic competition just isn’t my interest. KW

SAYING GOOD-BYE TO JOANN

 

It’s warmer now, reaching 50 degrees yesterday and 60 today (Feb. 22). The forecast shows little variation in highs and lows – a dangerous situation which causes spring growth too soon. But then – maybe this is the least of our worries.

As Mike rode off on his bicycle yesterday afternoon, I went to town for groceries – AND to see what’s happening at JoAnn’s, where preparations are underway for closing. A sign on the door says that they no longer accept coupons at this store. I wandered around for 15 or 20 minutes and bought nothing. Most items are marked down by 40%, but I was not enticed. The yarn department was not quite bare, but it looked like the most popular yarns, such as Caron and Red Heart, were depleted. All fabric is marked down but you must buy at least one yard. I checked storage bins and baskets, but there weren’t many in stock. Some display racks, such as bias tapes, were looking bare, while others still seemed well-stocked.

“I could just cry,” one guest remarked to another at the cutting counter.

“What about Walmart?” asked the other.

“Oh, they have a little fabric, but – well, the quality is questionable.”

And to the cutting clerk, “I hope you find a good job after this.” (No audible reply.)

We will find other ways to shop for our stitching needs, but it seems like these closures affect communities like ours the most – basically rural and somewhat remote. Even as I say this, my friend in Cedar City, Utah, where shopping is limited, is relieved that her JoAnn Fabrics is not closing. She says it’s a big store, larger than the one here. 

Was this my last trip to JoAnn? Possibly. I have plenty of fabric, yarn, and lots of trims and notions. I hate to say it, but I probably have enough to last the rest of my life. KW

A WINTER REMINISCENCE

 

Ina was pleased with the panoramic effect of these two photos. 1934

In February 1936, my grandmother wrote the following to my dad:

We have about three feet of snow and it is cold. It began piling up week before last and we have had sub-zero weather off and on ever since. A week ago Friday at 9:30 p.m., it was -12 degrees. That’s the coldest we have noted. Yesterday a.m., it was -8 degrees, this a.m. -6 degrees. The highest we noted today was +4 degrees. Dad keeps a lantern in the cellar “of a nite” and nothing has frozen. At Musser’s it registered -19 degrees. Reports from Saskatchewan are as low as -55 degrees, Montana -40 degrees. I dread to think of Pearl [a daughter living the farm life in Alberta]. They were on a little trip to Stettler in January and got onto ice and nearly had an upset. Then they couldn’t get the car out of the ditch and started, so Al [Pearl’s husband] had to go for help half a mile away while Pearl sat in the car at -31 degrees. Sometimes they use a sleigh in such weather.

Grandpa and Dick the Dog, 1934

Ina continues: The front door is corked up. We have been using the dining room evenings during this cold weather. It is so much warmer, but I’m going back to the living room as soon as possible. I make a little fire in our room every evening now so that the bed is warm. I warm my clothes by the stove.

Taken in the 1920s

Brrrrrr! Winter on the farm was difficult in that era. My grandparents didn’t have indoor plumbing, so Grandpa hauled water, and of course, it fell to him to split and carry firewood into the house. They heated with wood – no furnace. And especially in remote areas, this was common in that era. As we know, it’s tougher to tolerate cold temps the older we get. Even though Mike and I sleep in a cold room by choice (his), I’m grateful when I get up in the middle of the night that the bathroom is just the next room instead of outside.

Bess has been sleeping inside on her pillow the last couple of weeks while the nights are cold. She expects this now, but Mike will probably convince her to retire to her kennel again when it’s warmer. KW

FAILURES

I hope your plumbing didn't freeze.

We're in the midst of a cold snap. It was +5 at our house this morning. The day is bright and sunny, but the anticipated high is 28. We're fine. We have plenty of food, but the streets are dry, and we have been getting out. Days like this remind me of winter scenes on Christmas cards. 

I can't believe I let a full week go by without updating the blog. I have been writing, though, composing my victim impact statement with regard to Milo's wrongful death. Even though the court has reached out to us for this, I'm not sure it really matters. Milo is now just a name in passing while they focus on sentencing his murderer.

So, last week I tried to make a custard impossible pie with powdered egg replacer, and it didn’t work even though my laptop said it would. The end product was gross and inedible but even worse, it boiled over into the oven. What a mess, but Mike cleaned the oven for me, bless his heart.

I thought perhaps I used the wrong nomenclature when I asked my laptop for advice, but I searched again, and both powdered eggs and powdered egg replacer should work in your custard pie, so what else could have caused this debacle? I suspect I should have used my old-fashioned flat Pyrex pie plate instead of that wonderful deep-dish model that’s so easy to clean.

“You’re just bound to have some failures,” someone remarked when I was a bride. I thought it was a strange thing to say, offered out of the blue as it was, but every now and then I hear her saying it again.

Watch for the full Snow Moon tonight.

After the custard pie debacle, I just didn’t have the energy to start over with a fresh dessert, but since then I have made a Country Rhubarb Crostata. I call most of my pies crostatas these days. I just make a bigger round for the bottom crust and fold it over the top.  KW

DINNER BY CANDLELIGHT

 

Mike had had his shower and was resting before supper as is his wont. I was just ready to step into the shower when suddenly the world was plunged into darkness. Fortunately, my battery-operated candles still shine brightly from 4:00 p.m. to midnight, so Mike brought one to the bathroom for me.

We weren’t in bad shape really. There was still plenty of hot water, and Mike had started the evening fire in the little stove. A potato baking in the oven was close to done. I had made a salad and pudding for dessert. Mike moved my candles (sets of three) from the window to the kitchen, and they gave off enough light for me to finish cooking and then they graced the table for our supper. Meanwhile, the winter storm warning had come to pass. It was cold and snowing.

As it happened, Avista (our utility) had warned of outages this winter, so we brought the generator to town when we closed the farmhouse. And Mike was on it! It was slow to start, but he got it going. He plugged in the microwave so that I could finish warming supper dishes. Then he plugged in the wood stove and the TV set. At 7:47, as we watched the news, the electricity was restored.

Early in the afternoon, a pick-up hit a pole and sheared it off about half a mile from us. Apparently the outage occurred as Avista was fitting the transformer to the new pole around 6:15. Our household was one of a reported 1,400 without electricity. KW

EGGS

How about the price of eggs?! My computer tells me that the egg shortage will continue through 2025. How will this impact Easter and the egg hunts? Well, I’ve been out of the Easter egg hunt scenario for years – happily so – so maybe we no longer hide real eggs anyway.

We have used liquid egg substitutes for years in the great fight against cholesterol, and naturally, that product is even more expensive now. Plus, the quality can be iffy, and after opening, they should be used within a week. Looking for alternatives, I bought Bob’s Red Mill Egg Replacer (powdered eggs) at Albertsons for $6.50, and they work well in baked goods. One package replaces 34 eggs, so it’s definitely a bargain at today’s egg prices. It’s just not going to help if you want eggs with your bacon.

There are other ways to replace eggs in baking, too. Do you have a favorite?

It isn’t Valentine’s Day yet, and here I am talking about Easter (April 20). Maybe you can tell I don’t have much to write about. Mike and I both have dental issues, and little Silas fell going up stairs the other day and chipped a front tooth. He seems to be coping better than his parents. “Welcome to parenthood,” I say.

I have been kicking myself for developing such a fabric / yarn stash, but if prices soar, I might just be grateful I have projects waiting for me in the shed.

And that’s the news from here – for now. KW

BAD MILK

Mike and I shopped for groceries at Albertsons last week, and I came home with short-dated milk. I should have known better. However, it was still within its “use by” date on Sunday when I discovered it was not good. Mike was going out, so he offered to return it. That was great, but he came home with milk that was as bad, if not worse, than what he took back.

So, on Monday, Mike and Ken took the dogs and went hunting, and I prepared to return the milk. I packed my purse, congratulating myself that I had everything I would need.

I put the cooler in the car. “What am I missing?” I asked myself. The milk! 

I retrieved the milk from the fridge and put it in the cooler.

“What else don’t I have?” – My grocery list! So I grabbed the list from the kitchen counter.

Still feeling something was missing, I decided it must be my visor, so back into the house I went.

Finally ready, I drove to the store, a distance of approximately five miles. As I prepared to disembark from the car, I realized I didn’t have my purse. It was my purse that I was missing! I was tempted to just drive home and dump the stupid milk, but we would still need milk and a few other items, so there was nothing for it but to drive back home for my purse, which I did. (Mike had bought half-price milk, so there was no way I could simply exchange it for better milk.)

Arriving back at Albertsons, now with my purse, I went first to JoAnn’s. A sign on the door says they will maintain regular hours until further notice. I have loved this little store, conveniently located next to Albertsons, but JoAnn Fabrics is again in bankruptcy – the second time in a year. The cashier told me that they won’t know whether or not they have a buyer for the chain until mid-March, but he admitted that the future for this store doesn’t look good.

This little Bridge Street Shopping Center has been my “go-to” place for 20 years – Albertsons, JoAnn’s, and Dollar Tree. In recent years, I even got my hair cut at a salon there. The hair salon closed the first of January (Boy, do I need a haircut!), and JoAnn Fabrics will probably close, too. Fewer of my needs will be met at this location. Well, I have to admit that I didn’t buy enough at JoAnn’s to keep them in business, but no one person is responsible for their demise. The world is a changing place. KW

A DIFFICULT WEEK

I have been on an emotional rollercoaster as I prepare victim impact statements regarding Milo’s death at the request of the court. Now that Milo is gone, they want me to say what he meant to me and how we are impacted by his loss. Couldn’t they have asked BEFORE he was sentenced to prison and subsequently murdered? Well, to make matters worse, they did ask, we did comply, they just didn’t care, and they probably don’t care now. Nevertheless, I’m doing my best in Milo’s name. These letters aren’t due for quite some time, but I’ve been writing obsessively. I can’t seem to let it go.

It was Mike’s birthday the other day (Jan. 23). I won’t tell you how many years. At some point, we’re better off if we don’t think about how old we are. We went to Subway for lunch, and I guess that was the celebration. When we got home, he discovered that the spigot at the corner of his shop was cracked and leaking. He had to turn the water off, which meant we had no water in the house either, lending urgency to the situation. As he prepared to dig out the pipe, I suggested he call son Clinton. I figured that two heads were better than one, and Clint knows about these things. So, Clint left work early and came to help. He did the digging and then they bought and attached a whole new unit – spigot and pipe. Before Clint left, the water was back on.

It hasn’t gone particularly well in my sewing room either. The little shirt I’m making turned out to be too small for one doll and snug on the others. Yes, I should have checked measurements before I cut it out, but I really would expect that a pattern promoted especially for dolls such as mine would fit better than it does. The fabric – just the cutest! – was upcycled from a bag that Silas’ sheets came in, and I didn’t have a lot left. Of particular concern was the fact that the cuffs were too small for the dolls’ fat wrists. So, I cut new sleeves and instead of an “authentic” cuff, I made simple cuffs. I think it’s just as cute that way, and as always, the dolls smiled through. I still have the finishing to do.

And then there’s the “icebox lemon pie,” Mike’s favorite, that I made as a birthday treat. I used an off-brand sweetened condensed milk from Grocery Outlet (the “used food” store, as one son calls it). And oh, what trouble we make for ourselves when we practice to save a few cents! The filling refused to thicken. It turned out that it was “sweetened condensed creamer,” and while it said it would be good in my dessert recipes, it certainly was not! It tastes okay, but it isn’t pie. KW

UP TO THE FARM AND BACK

 

We are having such a mild winter and now have only a few inches of snow and lots of bare ground. We need lots of snow or rain. – Ina Dobson, January 12, 1936

Brrrrr!!! The January cold snap is upon us. It’s cold but dry, and I wonder what sort of summer we’ll have if we don’t get more snow in the mountains.

It’s been nearly a week ago now since we went to the farm to check on things – Tuesday (Jan. 14). It was a lovely sunny day there but cold – 32 and breezy, 40 in the house.

It’s been several years since I’ve had an opportunity to take winter photos, so I was pleased to see the snow, even though it wasn’t deep. Perhaps the effects were actually more interesting than deep drifts would have been, and we had no trouble getting in.

We had three mice in traps, so we re-set those traps and set three more. I checked the pantry cupboard and loaded two crates with food, much of it expired or nearing expiration. I will have to replenish the pantry in the spring, but it’s good to rotate supplies.

While I went out to get my photos, Mike and Bess went for a quick hunt but didn’t find any birds.

Well, it’s not comfortable to sit around in a cold house with no creature comforts, so we left around noon. We stopped at Subway for lunch and were home by 2:30. I had thought it might be a challenge to put the food away, but much of it could be tossed or combined with what was here. It worked out well. KW

YET ANOTHER ARTICLE

 Here's the link to an article that appeared in today's edition of the Lewiston Tribune.

We understand that the Idaho Statesman is preparing another article focused on how Milo Warnock and James M. Johnson became cellmates. KW

LINK TO ARTICLE

Here's the link to the article written by Alex Brizee of the Idaho Statesman. This relates to the court hearing mentioned in the previous post.

https://amp.idahostatesman.com/news/local/crime/article298651418.html

UPDATE: MILO WARNOCK WRONGFUL DEATH

Milo Warnock 1977-2023

Readers may know that our son Milo died at the hands of his cellmate at the Idaho State Corrections Center on December 10, 2023, just weeks short of his 46^th birthday. Milo was a non-violent offender sentenced to prison on a DUI charge.

Shortly after arriving at prison and receiving classification as a minimum security inmate, Milo was harshly punished for trying to regulate the time of day in which he swallowed his medication and subsequently placed in maximum security with violent offenders. He was confined to a cell for 23 hours a day and lost all privileges – no educational advantages, church services, socialization, etc. Plus -- his cellmate, James M. Johnson, appeared to be delusional and schizophrenic. (I wonder about that now as James sits quietly in court and answers the judge politely. Was he just intimidating Milo?)

At any rate, Milo didn’t know how to cope. “If I take any action at all, it will be wrong,” Milo wrote to me. And the fact that his last hours were spent in anguish with no help from the prison staff troubles me more than his death.

After a prolonged investigation by the Idaho State Police, the Ada County District Attorney charged James with first degree murder and evidence tampering with regard to Milo’s death. Initially, James entered a plea of not guilty, but the “tampering with evidence” charge was dropped, and he changed his plea to guilty in hopes of receiving a fixed sentence of not more than 35 years. However, at court this morning, the judge stated that she will review his record and the pre-sentence investigation before determining the sentence.  There will not be a trial. Sentencing has been scheduled for April 4.

In Milo’s name, we will continue to work to make the public aware of the need for judicial, corrections, and mental health reform. Too many – both men and women – are incarcerated. More appropriate sentences should be imposed on non-violent offenders. KW

PASSION PROJECTS – 2025

The mostly dark and dull days of winter are upon us. We have no excitement and given the state of  the world, we deem this a good thing.  

The New Year’s retail promotions are full of suggestions.

·      “New Year, New Projects”

·      “Find your 2025 passion project”

·      “New year, new skill”

“I wish!” I say to myself. I’d love a fresh start, but I have a plethora of wonderful projects and ideas from previous years on my bucket list and some that I would be happy to de-list. I’m a dreamer, not a realist; a starter, not a finisher. And a part of me is happy with that, even though it’s an undisciplined approach and my conscience occasionally bothers me.

It's interesting that online sellers seem to think that crafting is neat and tidy. Finish one project, move to the next, and by the end of the year, you’ve finished everything you started and are actually looking for something new to do. Does it work that way for anyone? A few of the quilting gurus give the impression that they make many quilts in a year, but I suspect that staff members provide support. Wouldn’t I love to assign problematic seams to my team! Unfortunately, I don’t have one. but if I did, I might chug right along, too. I have to rip and restitch my own seams and do my own finishing.

A dull winter's day along the Clearwater River

And sometimes I wonder – don’t these crafters (quilters, crocheters, knitters, etc.) have anything else to do? Suggest a sew-along, and six people will show up tomorrow with the finished project. What about the cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and walking the dog? What about eight hours of sleep? Forgive me, but even a husband detracts from project work with his suggestions of geocaching and requests for cookies and banana bread.

I had planned to do some simple, fun projects in the first weeks after Christmas, but the ones I chose were neither simple nor fun. Frankly, they don’t even qualify as unfinished because I couldn’t make a start, and the one I did start turned out to be difficult and sits as a “buffalo” on my sewing machine. I wonder if I’m losing my touch, my cognitive abilities, and/or my patience. Perhaps it’s all three. (I really think that I’m the way I’ve always been.) KW

FIRST GEOCACHE OF 2025

 

It was Monday afternoon, January 6.

“I’m bored,” said Mike. “I want to go geocaching this afternoon. Do you want to go with me?”

I wasn’t bored, but I said I would go – that is, until I stepped outside. It was “41 feels like 36” with a stiff breeze and no sun. “Are you sure you want to go today?” I asked.

“Maybe not,” Mike agreed.

So the next day, the sun was out (sort of) and it wasn’t quite so cold, and we agreed it would be good to get out. We parked the car off Hwy 12 / 95 directly across the Clearwater River from the mill and walked east to one cache which was simply the coords for the next cache in the series. It was faded to the extent that we couldn’t read it. On the way back to the car, we stopped at another elaborately planned cache where we were supposed to pour water into a tube so that the log book would float to the top. Mike tried valiantly, but the desired item was stuck in gunk at the bottom of the tube and wouldn’t float.

“These caches feel ‘déjà vu,’” I commented, and Mike laughingly agreed. We tried these caches unsuccessfully last year. We couldn’t read the first one, and we didn’t have the necessary water for the second.

So, we drove on east for a couple of miles to the “Goose Pasture” where we walked along a trail to access three recently-placed caches. Mike found each of these rather quickly, but they were elaborate, and putting them back to the original condition was time-consuming. Bess had such a good time running around, but in the end, even she complained about staying in one place.

As we arrived back at the car, the Ada County prosecuting attorney called to give us an update on the pending case against the inmate who murdered our son Milo, so we sat and listened for ten minutes or so. Progress has been made, but the current status is not yet final, so announcements won't be made for several weeks. And on the way home, Mike and I reviewed again the "what ifs." KW

A HOLIDAY MEMORY

I don’t write much about my holiday memories. They are simply too personal, whether positive or negative. So, I write about Grandma Ina instead, based on her letters to my dad. It’s historically interesting for me and I’m not emotionally invested in what happened in those years that don’t include me.

Hallie’s comment on a previous post reminded me of how difficult Christmas was when I was the mother of young children. Christmas 1979, Milo was just turning two and Clinton was two months. I had volunteered to bring peanut butter fudge to the Christmas Eve gathering at the family home. The recipe is simple:

Peanut Butter Fudge

Semi-sweet chocolate morsels (one package)

Butterscotch morsel (one package)

1 cup creamy peanut butter

1 cup peanuts

1 10-oz. package of mini-marshmallows

Melt the morsels and peanut butter in the microwave. Stir in peanuts and marshmallows and spread in a buttered 9x13 pan. Allow to set in the refrigerator for half an hour. Voila!

So, you see, anyone can make that tasty, melt-in-your-mouth fudge in five minutes, but I couldn’t find that five minutes. Clinton had a bad day. The only time he wasn’t crying was when I held him, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. And of course, the two-year-old still needed my attention, too. And I had to pack for the overnighter at the family home. Bottom line: I failed to make that super-simple fudge.

Arriving at the Christmas Eve party that evening, I fessed up to my mother that I hadn’t made the fudge. “Vance, Vance,” she called to my dad. “Kathy didn’t make the fudge,” whereupon, my dad set to work to make Fantasy Fudge when he really had more important things to do. I felt so small. It’s not like they didn’t have a plethora of goodies, but I had certainly misjudged how important that plate of fudge would be.

I drew a number of lessons from that simple failing that helped to shape the kind of Christmas we have today. Be flexible. Keep it simple. Nothing matters but that we’re together. KW