MODULAR HOME MAINTENANCE (BEFORE & AFTER)

Original paint -- cream and light green

Every summer for the last five years, painters have knocked on my door to tell me the house needs to be painted and offer a deal. One painter even tried to play Mike and me against each other. “Your husband says it’s up to you,” he said, and then complained to Mike that I must be hard to get along with. Well, in a way he was right.

After 20 years, I did think the house was overdue for new paint. It had faded for sure, and sitting between two recently painted houses in darker colors, it appeared dated and shabby. I just had to convince Mike, but once he was on board, he stepped up to it and found a painter – Pryme Tyme Painting – that we both liked. That painter was businesslike from the beginning, providing a written estimate and making suggestions, including painting the trim a contrasting color and making a statement with the front door.

So – It’s finished now, and we’re pleased. And I figure it will be a while before the painters knock on the door again. KW

  

IF YOU HANG IT, THEY WILL COME

A view toward the canyon from June's place

I thought I heard a hummingbird buzz by my ear, so I made nectar and we hung the feeders. In the afternoon, one showed up for an easy snack, but it’s a far cry from the swarm of hummers that used to entertain us. Visits to the feeder were few and far between.

Son Murray, visiting the farm on Memorial Day, took himself for a walk around the pond and reported that he saw several little ducklings swimming with their dad. Mom wasn’t there. Perhaps she needed some time to herself.

As we left the yard for our evening constitutional on Friday (May 23), a rattlesnake lay in the grass at the top of the lane. Mike calls that place “rattlesnake crossing” because we often see a rattler there. This was our second sighting of the season.

I saw a nice round bumblebee bumbling along in the iris, and I let him have it. I have a healthy respect for the bees, and I'm pleased that they visit my garden. However, I give them wide berth. 

Red-winged Blackbirds reside in the pine trees at the pond. I think they’ve been there as long as the pond, and they take ownership. I read that some conservation organizations are concerned for them, although they aren’t endangered. They can cause considerable crop damage, but I’ve never heard anyone here complain about them, nor have I noticed them in the field. In terms of damage, the deer are the greater threat anyway. In fact, we watched from our recliners while three or four whitetail munched the tender young grain sprouts in the field adjacent to the yard. They will be back again and again.

Ticks aren't prevalent this year, and it’s fine by me. A tick will ride along with Bess in spite of the repellent she wears, but I haven’t noticed that she’s bothered. Mike removed one from his person – just one this season. I don't want them on me! KW

NOTES ON MEMORIAL DAY

 As I grew up, Memorial Day was an important tradition in my family. In those days, Memorial Day (or Decoration Day, as some still called it) occurred on May 31. The change to the last Monday in May went into effect in 1971 in accordance with the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1968. When I was married in 1975, it didn’t occur to me that our chosen date fell on Memorial Day weekend, and to this day, I would rather observe it on May 31.

Nina & Charlie Portfors

Our family tradition started with my Portfors grandparents. Grandma Nina’s family (Stinsons and Sanders) were interred at the Burnt Ridge Cemetery outside of Troy, Idaho, so Grandma and Grandpa would fill the trunk of his Lincoln with washtubs and buckets of flowers and large cans to serve as vases. They stopped at Aunt Hattie Stinson’s house in Troy (Grandma’s aunt by marriage), loaded her flowers, and the three of them went on to the cemetery where they blended their floral offerings into bouquets for the various graves. Afterwards, they would share a midday meal.

Nina Saunders Portfors 1886-1955

When Grandma Portfors died in 1955, my mother stepped in to help Grandpa continue the tradition of cemetery decorating, and naturally, she took me along. We always had plenty of flowers from our yard as well as Grandpa’s, and my dad would make a trip to the farm where the season was at least two weeks behind town and bring back even more flowers. We made bouquets with iris, lilacs, roses, peonies, poet daffodils, coralbells, bleeding heart, etc. It was always fun to see how those bouquets would turn out.

As the years went on, Mother added more cemeteries to her list and gathered more family members into the plan. It seemed complicated to me, but nothing was too much trouble for Mother if she wanted to do it. Besides the Burnt Ridge Cemetery, we decorated graves at the Normal Hill Cemetery in Lewiston and the Riverside Cemetery in Orofino. Later, she visited Grangeville and Cavendish. We did not regularly visit the Gilbert Cemetery near the farm where my dad’s family is buried, and ironically, this is now the only cemetery I visit and only if it fits our schedule. And I use (and re-use) artificial flowers because I don’t have enough flowers in my yard.

Will I take it more seriously now that Milo’s memorial is at the Gilbert Cemetery? Frankly, I doubt it, but I bought a cemetery vase with spike for his grave with the thought that it would be nice to place live flowers this year. I made two bouquets with iris, bridal veil spirea, and lilacs – one for Milo’s grave and one for my dad’s, which Mike and I delivered on Friday (May 23). And while I was there, I placed artificial flowers on other family graves as long as I could tolerate the stooping.

Even back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, fewer flowers were available on Memorial Day, so Mother planted cemetery boxes. You have to plant those early so that the plants mature, fill the box, and bloom. Mother was good at it, but it’s a labor of love that I didn’t take up.

Decorations placed on any grave signify remembrance, but I especially love to see flowers at an old grave. It means that a life lived long ago is still lovingly remembered. Mike observes that I’m the major decorator at the Gilbert Cemetery. KW

MIKE AND KATHY – 1975-2025 (AND COUNTING!)

Congratulations are in order. Mike and Kathy have reached the landmark 50 years of married life. Fifty years ago today, we committed to each other, to the marriage, to the family, and we kept those vows. Like everyone else, over the years we’ve had trials and tribulations as well as joys and triumphs – you know, ups and downs. I wish it had been all triumphs, but trials force us to grow. We just have to trust and know that "it was good -- all of it."

And how will we celebrate? Quietly. We’ve invited one of our ushers, my nephew L.J., to join us for dinner at our favorite restaurant in Orofino. And we anticipate a couple of family gatherings during the summer. Having reached 50 years of togetherness, I figure we can celebrate these 50 years however we like for the rest of our lives. KW

A MOST PRODUCTIVE VISIT TO THE FARM

 

As we left the farm on Friday (May 16), Mike commented on how pleased he was with all “we” accomplished. He’s most relieved that the big burn pile is gone now, and as it burned, we added more to it. The rotten old church pew had finally collapsed and Mike tossed the boards on the fire. He pulled more limbs from under the pines, cut the larger ones into fire wood, and made many trips to the burn pile hauling branches in the 4-wheeler trailer.

And speaking of the fire, as I went to walk to the back side of the pile, I heard the unmistakable buzz of a young rattler in the tall grass under the apple tree. We surmised that it had been living under the burn pile. This was our first snake sighting of the season. We didn’t see any rattlesnakes last year.

I also watched as Mr. and Mrs. Mallard preened on the bank of the pond. They seem fairly tame and were there a long time. I thought to myself that they live in the water and clean themselves on dry land, just the opposite of us humans. I have yet to see any ducklings, and I hope that all is well with the family.

I planted the ten strawberry plants that Hallie gave me. And Mike and I planted the rhubarb plant that a friend has been saving for me since last year. We also planted three more Agastache plants, but we didn’t have time to address the needs of the raised beds. We still have time to plant them.

My sewing projects have been on hold. I had been making quilt-as-you-go hexagon chair backs last year and wanted to take it up again, but alas! I misplaced my templates, and without those templates, I was unable to proceed. My search philosophy is to look where I am led rather than frantically tearing everything apart, but I
was at my wit’s end. I figured they were in a stack someplace, and yesterday I found them in a cubby hole under my ironing board. It made my day! KW

MOTHER'S DAY WEEKEND

"Farmgirl" bouquet for Mother's Day

Son Milo (now deceased) considered himself a cyclist. Several years ago, he built his own e-bike using an old bike frame. In addition, he had several other bikes, and daughter Hallie agreed to sell them in Seattle. We just had to get them to her. So, we decided to combine business with pleasure and spend Mother’s Day weekend in Seattle with Hallie, Nick, and our grandson Silas, who is 3 1/2.

So, on Friday (May 9), we were loaded and on the road by 7:00 a.m., which put us at Hallie’s during the noon hour. It was “Pajama Friday” at pre-school, so Silas was still in his pajamas.

As we ate lunch, Silas said, “Grandma, you are smacking too much.” And he hopped down from his chair, disappeared down the hall, and returned carrying a mirror, which he set in front of me so that I could see just how much I smack when I eat. Hallie explained that Nick is training Silas to eat without smacking.

Grandpa Mike & Silas

I honestly didn’t realize that I’m a smacking offender. I remember my mother saying, “Chew with your mouth closed,” and “don’t talk with your mouth full,” and I thought I had learned those lessons, but apparently I need a refresher course. As we were leaving this morning, I told Silas that I would practice eating silently, and he offered to loan me his mirror. I assured him that I have a mirror I can use.

Mike & Kathy

Silas insisted that Hallie name the bears in this photo. “They’re your bears,” she said. “You should name them,” but when he demurred, she said, “Okay, they’re Mike and Kathy. She crochets and gardens. He’s into cycling and bike repair.” And Silas was satisfied. Those bears bring a smile every time I think of them.

Of course, Bess went with us, and Silas remarked that Bess is nicer than their dog Primo.

It was a wonderful weekend. Besides the “Silas-isms,” memorable things happened. Mike worked on the bicycles, and with Hallie’s assistance, he got the e-bike up and running. Hallie cooked delicious meals, and Nick made crème brulee, a first for Mike and Kathy (the people, not the bears). Our Denver family sent a Mother’s Day bouquet, which fortunately was delivered before we left home so that we could take it with us. After a breakfast of waffles and sausage on Mother’s Day, Hallie dug out the everbearing strawberries that had jumped her raised bed and were growing in her lawn. I will plant them in my strawberry bed on the farm.

“That doesn’t cover it at all,” as Ina would say, but you get the idea. 

The time comes when we have to get back to our regular activities. We agreed that we would miss each other, but we already have plans to see each other again soon. Meanwhile, absence makes the heart grow fonder. KW

CAMPING OUT?

 

“It feels like we’re camping out,” remarked Mike Tuesday morning. It was 46 outside and not much warmer in our bedroom where a cool north breeze wafted through the open window. (Mike insists on sleeping with an open window year-round.) However, temps are quickly warming now, and back in town, the day’s high reached 80. I packed our bedspread away for the summer and hope that I don’t regret it.

Mike worked hard at the farm. He mowed and trimmed the yard, cleaned the eavestroughs, hung the big chimes in the maple tree, installed the clothesline, repaired the raised bed gate, and spent hours clearing limbs from under the pine trees in the grove. Then for fun, he went for a neighborhood mountain bike ride, experienced a blow-out, and had to “limp” on back to the farmhouse with the neighbor’s dog trailing along – a tough ride. I led a discussion on learning to pace ourselves, relaxing more often, and having some guiltfree fun. Mike agreed, but he’s a driven individual. I can help with the chores when needed, but I’m a dreamer by nature and have never been able to keep up with him. (And I don’t want to.)

Mr. Mallard 

We’re combining business with pleasure and hope to have an enjoyable Mother’s Day weekend. Until next week . . . KW