PRE-HALLOWEEN MUSINGS

What happened to October? For that matter, what happened to September? Bottom line: Christmas will be here before we know it, which I already knew in July.

But for the next couple of days – maybe even the next week, spooky time will continue here while I finish up a few projects before I move on to less spooky Thanksgiving themes. And then it will be time for Advent. Once again, the time is short between Thanksgiving and the First of December (the following Tuesday).

Leaves still cling to the red maple

Mike has been busy with town yardwork. The purple ash tree has shed all its leaves, and now we wait for the red maple to drop hers. Besides raking leaves, under the direction of a neighbor who owns a side business in native plants, Mike has removed some of our invasive perennials – red valerian and silver sage (wormwood). Now we have to plant something in the bare spots. Well, you have to do these things if you don’t live in a condo (or assisted living).

Our family has been contacted by a British company that has plans to produce a program on the event at the Idaho State Correctional Center that took the life of our son Milo. The focus is the individual that committed this crime. More about this as it unfolds.

Silas the Friendly Ghost

Mike and I went to the annual meeting of the Clearwater Power Company yesterday. Naturally, attendees were mostly senior citizens who live in outlying rural areas, such as our farm. Mike likes to attend these things. I’m not a fan of finding my way into a roomful of people I don’t know. Even the proffered goodies seem like a bribe to get me to sit through the presentation, but Mike is interested so I go along. The goodie bag consisted of almond biscotti, cranberry and pear conserve, and a cheese item called “marinated labneh.” We sampled the labneh and decided it wasn’t for us, but son Murray’s tastebuds are more sophisticated than ours. We’ll pass it on to him.

And then, as if to reinforce Mike’s interest in these meetings, he won a door prize – a Fanttik turbolite mini chainsaw with a 4-inch blade. I almost laughed out loud, given that Mike has spent 2026 making firewood out of huge 100-year-old pine trees downed by the horrific windstorm of Dec. 17, 2025. Sometimes our regular chainsaws were barely large enough to cut those trunks into firewood lengths. And splitting? Forget it, so Mike treated himself to a heavy-duty gas wood splitter. We’ll have more of this work in 2027, and it won’t involve a 4-inch blade.

Daylight Savings Time ends on Sunday, Nov. 1 – the great autumn fallback. As I opened my eyes this morning, I knew it was 7:00. Now I will have to adjust. And Bess, accustomed to the afternoon constitutional between 4:00 and 4:30, will now want that walk at 3:30 or earlier. Well, we’ll get used to it. We always do. KW

MOVING THE OLD DIESEL TANK

 

Can you believe it?! It’s either late mid-October or early late October. At any rate, we’re moving quickly toward the end of October. The drive up the Clearwater and then up the Gilbert Grade was just beautiful! So glad I didn’t miss it. Some years we do.

Scott & Mike preparing to lift tank

Here at the farm, it was a beautiful day and warmer than we expected. However, rain is predicted later in the day and then cooler temps. Hard to believe it will happen. The house was nice and warm – even upstairs.

Farmer Kyle was fertilizing the fields this morning. And it was a special treat when Neighbor Scott came over with his new-to-him used old tractor to grab the old diesel tank off its platform at the barn.

An easy lift for the old tractor

It was my dad’s diesel tank, so it was probably installed in the early 1950s, and I’m guessing use ceased about 1965 when he retired. Well, he still had the old Caterpillar D-2, but he wouldn’t have needed much fuel. Anyway, we certainly didn’t need it, and the wood platform was deteriorated, but getting rid of the tank was problematic. We thought on the matter for years. Salvage wouldn’t take it since it was a gas tank. After some research, son Clint suggested we ask the neighbors if anyone wanted it. It only took one contact. Scott said he’d like to have it and today he came for it.

So glad we were here on a day when things were happening.

Right into the bucket

I’m working gently toward putting the gardens to bed. I couldn’t have asked for a better crop of tomatoes this year – the best crop I’ve ever had. Better Boy, Celebrity, and Bonnie Original (billed as “our favorite tomato”). I had occasional blossom end rot, but aside from that, all three plants were great producers. We picked 60 ripe tomatoes and I canned four pints of green tomato mincemeat. I planted early in the spring, and Hallie gave them a boost in late June when she rebuilt the raised bed in which they resided.

Off to its new home

It was NOT a good zucchini year. The strawberries didn’t produce well either, but the plants sent out many runners. The bed is overcrowded now, and I must thin them before the snow flies. KW

THE TRAVELOGS OF YESTERYEAR

As far as I know, the trip to Yellowstone in 1926 was the only time that Ina traveled as a tourist. Other trips were made to visit family, not specifically to see the sights. She traveled by train to Seattle and Portland, except for that trip in 1949 when Uncle Earle flew her to Idaho Falls. Having crossed the Plains in a covered wagon in the 1870s and '80s, it seemed significant that she should experience air travel.   

As Ina and I recuperated from the Yellowstone trip in our respective centuries, I happened to remember her View-Master viewers and travel reels, which continue to be stored in the farmhouse. If you remember the View-Master viewers, you probably think of them as toys, but Ina had two viewers, and her reels were travelogs, not cartoons.

Ina's first View-Master

In the collection are reels of Yellowstone and Teton National Parks. I wish I could post some of these old images, but reproducing them is beyond my capabilities. (Perhaps not possible at all.) And while some images can be found online, I discovered that those Kodachrome colors have deteriorated over time. And the effect wouldn’t be the same anyway. The great thing about the View-Master was the 3D effect in vivid color.

My childhood viewer was a little different. It was manufactured under the name “Tru-View.” The card was rectangular instead of round. My mother often bought “knock-offs,” probably because she shopped through my grandfather’s John Plain discount catalog. I never complained but I saw the View-Master as more desirable. Apparently, the Sawyer company, manufacturer of the View-Master, bought the Tru-View Company and discontinued it. My viewer eventually broke, but I still have the cards, which are useless without the viewer.

I think my 40-something children had a View-Master and cartoon reels, but it just wasn’t the same for them as it was for Ina and me. It didn’t capture their imaginations, and this is understandable. They had television. And today’s children have their tablets.

Here’s a View-Master Manufacturing Timeline

• 1939: Debuted by Sawyer's at the New York World's Fair focusing on travel views.
• 1966–1981: Owned by GAF Corporation, shifting focus toward cartoons and TV shows.
• 1998: Acquired by Mattel under the Fisher-Price brand.
• 2008: Scenic and travel reel manufacturing stopped.
• 2013: Final commercial custom scenic reel production ceased.
• 2015–2019: A modern virtual reality View-Master was produced, then phased out.

KW

THE FIGHT TO CORRECT CORRECTIONS

At the time of son Milo’s murder at the Idaho State Correctional Center (a fancy name for “prison”), a nephew suggested that I could do some writing with regard to the need for corrections reform. Well, I’ve found it difficult. In the first place, I’m not a crusader, and in the second place, injustices happen every day. I’m well aware that the tragic loss of a son does not make me special. It also takes courage to speak out because some people feel that inmates deserve what they get, regardless of their circumstances.

But today in the U.S., we incarcerate so many non-violent offenders that we need to let go of that cruel idea. We have criminalized mental illness and addiction – societal issues – to the extent that at least 50% of the incarcerated could better serve another less costly type of sentence. (Yes, incarceration is a hefty taxpayer expense.) If non-violent offenders could pay their debt under some other type of system, they might continue to contribute to society through employment, pay taxes, support community businesses, and keep their families intact while also benefiting the community through service.

And let me tell you, once an individual finds his way into the judicial / corrections system, his/her life is ruined. It takes an exceptionally strong individual to come back from incarceration. When released, they have hefty fines to pay, which increases indebtedness and leads to homelessness – a further drain on society. They say if you aren’t mentally ill when you enter prison, you will be when you come out. The prison environment sees to it. Prison helps no one.

We incarcerate the criminally insane as well as those with mental health issues, often without segregating them from each other or the general prison population, making it especially dangerous for non-violent inmates. Some people aren’t fighters and can’t adequately defend themselves. And why should they have to? No one should be bullied in prison or anywhere else, but this happens.

It’s not my place to say whether or not Milo belonged in prison. However, judges who pass these sentences must know that non-violent offenders might not survive incarceration. At the sentencing of Milo’s murderer, the judge commented that she had no jurisdiction over what happens at the prison, adding that the prison doesn’t even have to follow her recommendations. And I wanted to scream, “But you put people there!”

I’ve been asked more than once, “Have you told the ACLU?” Yes, several times. The major concerns of human rights organizations are the incarceration of women, the plight of people of color, and the rights of the LGBTQ community – all worthy causes – but our son Milo, a white male, was killed by his cellmate, another white male. Very few organizations argue for the greatly needed reform of the overall system for the betterment of humanity. The political upheaval in our country puts prison reform at the bottom of the list, and yet, we’re no better as a society than the way we treat the lowest among us.

It’s been nearly three years since Milo passed. The news cycle has moved on, but it has been the quest of my family to quietly press for change through legal action. A judge has allowed our suit to continue. We believe it’s an important case. KW 

AUTUMN COMES TO GILBERT

 

It’s October – a delightful time of year in the Pacific Inland Northwest. Mornings and evenings are cool, but afternoons have been unseasonably warm. I’m comfortable in warmer pajamas, but it’s too soon for sweatshirts and warm-ups. I see it could well freeze at the farm early in the week and come close to it in town. I also see that by next weekend the highs could be in the 70s again.

The autumn plague of blue aphids has begun. They’re harmless, I guess. Just inconvenient. And they love our purple ash tree, so we’re part of the problem.

I’ve already set out my Halloween displays, and I even made a pillow top from a favorite Halloween sweatshirt. I loved that shirt the moment I saw it at Kmart all those years ago, hanging all by itself at the end of a rack. I bought it and enjoyed wearing it, but it got old and the sleeves were a little short, so I retired it with intent to repurpose it as a pillow. It happened this year, and I count it as another finished project.

Mike and I spent this last week at the farm. I made a last batch of elderberry jelly (5 jelly jars), and while I had the canning kettle out, I cooked a batch of green tomato mincemeat (4 pints). Mike mowed the lawn, hopefully for the last time this year. We don’t water here, and usually the grass has gone dormant before now.

Mike rode his bike a couple of times, and while he did, Bess and I hiked the planted fields. Next year’s crop is canola, and it’s already coming up. It’s a bit disappointing for us. The game birds seem to prefer the wheat. The bright yellow fields will be gorgeous when the canola blooms in the spring, but afterwards, it grows tall and obscures our views. But – the land is leased and it’s not up to us.

Walking the fields is no easy feat, now that the soil is loose and furrowed, but I enjoyed getting out on my own and taking pictures. Bess was gracious about watching and waiting for me, but as I approached her on our last hike behind the house, she looked me in the eye, turned around, and marched back across the field. She was resting on the porch when I got home. Apparently she wasn’t up for the hike. KW