'Twas the Monday before Christmas . . .

Mike and I slept to a reasonable hour this morning and then sprang to our work -- loading the Dakota for the trip to the farm. No gifts this trip (mainly because I still have wrapping to do -- but we brought four more boxes of framed photos, etchings, and what have you, adding it to the four that were already here. Nick and Hallie have promised to help us make decisions on some of this old stuff while they are here, and we'll probably do that somewhere between Dominoes and Scrabble.

So, Mike and I arrived here at the farm about 11:00. Food unloaded -- check; faucets re-installed -- check; water turned on -- check; dishwasher runs without incident -- check.

We left here last in the midst of a cold snap on December 7. Here are the weather statistics from Mike's electronic weather station:
Min. temp.: .4 on 12-8 at 7:12 a.m.
Max. temp.: 42 (today)
Min. wind chill: -21 on 12-9
Max. wind gust -- 28 mph on 12-15
We aren't sure about precip. Sometimes that malfunctions. But from the bridge at Arrow all the way to the farm, we saw patches of snow where it had drifted or been piled. The weather report is for dropping temperatures and some snow. It's a gray day, and we noted that the ground is soft and muddy.

The first thing I did when I walked in the house was to turn on the Christmas tree lights. Mike just about panicked when he saw it, thinking we had left them on. I found my computer cord right where I left it. Now I have one for town and one for here. Really, the less we have to carry back and forth the better, but you just can't have two of everything.

Relaxing day? Well, I have things to do. I'm making those lists and checking them twice. But at least I'm down to some fun things. I hope you are enjoying your holiday preparations -- and do check back again for another visit with Ina. KW

“AND MAMA IN HER KERCHIEF AND I IN MY CAP . . .”

It was 25 degrees when we arrived here at the farm yesterday morning at 11:00. The high for the day was only 31. We ran the propane wall furnace in the dining room for an hour and Mike got the fire going in the fireplace. It takes about a day to warm the place when it's cold.

We had only been here half an hour when our neighbor Pete drove up in his shiny new-to-him 2001 Dodge Ram. He'd seen three wolves from his house earlier in the morning and wanted us to be aware. Apparently wolves will make quick work of a dog. As we stood in the kitchen we talked of how it used to be in Grandma Ina's day. He calls her "Aunt Ina," a title of respect rather than relationship that children once were taught to use. In his boyhood he brought Ina eggs and cream for his mother – by that time Ina was no longer keeping chickens and cows – and she would insist he have cookies and milk before going back home. He spoke of how nice she was.

It remained very cold upstairs yesterday, and when we went to bed I hoped I would not have to get up in the night. At least I remembered to give thanks that I wouldn't have to go outside, though I'm not sure there was really much difference in temperature between our bedroom and outside. We couldn't find Mike's flannel pajamas – they must be in town – and he wished for a cap to cover his bald pate. I donned the shoulder-ette I made for myself last year to keep my back and neck warm. And I put on a pair of soft, thick socks, remembering what mothers have known forever – if your feet are warm, you'll feel warm. We warmed the bed with the electric blanket, but it was too cold to sit up and read, so we listened to an old radio podcast – a Phillip Marlowe mystery. But I can't tell you how it came out. I fell asleep somewhere this side of the middle.

Today dawned clear and bright – 17.6 felt like 12.2 at 7:30 a.m., but by noon it was overcast and dark. I found an old pair of silk long johns that once belonged to my mother and found them "just the thing" for under my jeans. Both Mike and I are wearing an extra layer of clothing. I ran the dishwasher and the washing machine, purposely waiting until today just in case one of them should leak and emergency action be necessary. Mike and Nellie went hunting but didn't get anything – not even the pheasant I saw in the yard yesterday. And we did not see the wolves. We made a trip to the attic after Christmas decorations and a trip to the barn for the tree. After I set it up, Nellie insisted on our afternoon walk. "If we don't go now," she said, "we'll miss our chance because it will be dark."

HOT TIME AT THE FARM

Just wanted you to know we've come to the farm.

We had just decided yesterday to spend the weekend in town -- even accepted an invitation to a barbecue. Then Mike turned on the radio and heard the weather report -- 100+ for the next two days with continued hot, dry weather next week. "Let's just go to the farm," he said. So -- we drove up this morning. It was already 81 as we left the Clarkston house, where draught-tolerant coneflowers flourish by the front door.

I even transplanted some coneflowers to the farm last year and planted them by the front steps where they seem to be happy. But -- the corn that I planted in the raised bed and that we worked to protect before we left on vacation died from the heat and lack of moisture. You just can't be a good gardener if you aren't paying attention. I have to decide what to do about the raised bed. It's too late for corn, too late for squash. Green beans? Maybe. As incongruous as it seems today, frost can occur in early September here. And once the days grow shorter, the plants get the message.

The raspberries aren't bearing now but the bushes seem okay. "Well, I water mine!" said Ken when I asked him for advice. "And now and then I throw a little fertilizer their way." Yes, well, the fact is that even though they thrive with water, they will tolerate some draught. This year I have enough new canes to expand my patch. We want to connect the two patches so that there's no sod on the hill.

I brought the Nick and Hallie commemorative Gerber daisies with us this trip, knowing that I didn't dare leave them in the heat. They will tolerate some heat but not hot sun. They are better off with us here where it's cooler and I can tend to them. Ken took care of them while we were away. "Throw some fertilizer on them and it might force them to bloom for the wedding," Ken advised. (Again with the fertilizer!)

Mike is out mowing but the grass is dry now. He just wanted to knock down the heads and make it look even. I'll bet he plans serious hammock time this afternoon. KW

FOURTH OF JULY, 2009

Last Thursday, July 2, Mike decided to make a morning bike ride, and since we expected the day to be warm, Nellie and I decided to exercise in the morning as well. As I left the house, I happened to remember the camera and went back for it.

As we approached Pete's farm, we discovered he was haying, using his renovated Case tractor. Oh -- you would ask me the year of that model! 1945 or '46, I think. That's the era he loves. He has several old tractors, and he's sentimental about them: one was his dad's, one was his father-in-law's, and I forget the sentimental connection on the other. He does the mechanic work and his son paints them for him. Each one is to be inherited by a grandchild.

As I took pictures of the old-time haying process, Pete stopped to visit for a while. He told me he planned to ride that tractor in the Fourth of July parade in Orofino and provided some details. The parade would be at 5:30 as folks gathered for the evening celebration before the fireworks. That usually translates to a lot of waiting around for 10:00 p.m. and a sky dark enough to showcase the fireworks.

Well, since we came back to Clarkston, we won't be celebrating with the Orofinoans. We plan to have traditional "Warnock burgers" and strawberry shortcake for dessert. I don't know if we'll seek out a celebration or simply enjoy some patriotic television.

Anyway, Nellie and I continued on with our morning explorative walk. On the way back, we met Pete walking back home for gas. "I told Rubee I had enough gas," he commented, "but then, this is the first time I've ever screwed up."

RESTING UP

After supper last night here at the farm, we cleaned up and put on our pajamas, then tried to read for a while. "I'm tired," said Mike. "I could sleep for twelve hours; it just doesn't seem to happen." We treated ourselves to small portions of strawberry pretzel salad, brushed Nellie's teeth and put her to bed, then climbed the stairs ourselves. It was 8:55 when I tuned into an episode of "The Great Gildersleeve." We watched a beautiful sunset to the northwest, glad that we enlarged the bedroom window – one of our few concessions to exterior modification of the house. I think we heard "Gildersleeve" but were not awake for any other program.

We went back to town last Friday. Mike cleaned the car inside and out that afternoon and also changed the oil. I got my hair cut, and while I was out I bought a AAA membership in preparation for our Mississippi trip coming up in a couple of weeks. Saturday I drove to Richland (150 miles) for a meeting (topic: The Sermon on the Mount), taking two friends with me. It was a long day – I left the house at 5:45 a.m. and was back at 7:45 p.m. – but the inspiration was worth it. While I was gone, Mike split and stacked wood, did some weeding, picked up some supplies, loaded the old trailer with some dirt for the horseshoe pits – and I'm sure he rode his new motorcycle someplace. He also set up the Nikon camera which was finally repaired and returned after much tribulation, and he also reviewed the Nikon manual. Sunday he rode 68 miles with the cyclists – a supported ride – and was gone most of the day, while I shopped for groceries. I know – it's shopping for groceries, hardly worth mentioning, but it becomes a big deal when we're going to the farm. Even with a list, I have to anticipate needs. Produce is where I generally come up short.

Yesterday (Monday) morning we got up early, packed our provisions into the pick-up for return to the farm, and were on the road before 8:00. We decided to take the river road (Hwy 12) but had to wait 20 minutes this side of the bridge at Orofino. Since we were sitting at the cemetery, I reviewed some old family stories for Mike's benefit. Coming into the farm with a good view of the "north 40," we once again spied a brown animal moving in the field, but by the time we were close enough to really see it, it was gone. Perhaps it's a badger.

Upon arrival we discovered the trailer had a flat tire. Mike worked hard for more than an hour to repair it. Then he shoveled the dirt we brought into the horseshoe pits.

It's really no wonder we were ready for some rest. Once again we were awake before 6:00 a.m., but at least we had the benefit of going to bed early.

[The photo is of Nellie where I found her this morning -- sleeping on the chaise on the front porch. She prefers this now to her house in the woodshed.] KW

RAISED BED PROGRESS REPORT

It's been a slow process. At one point I was ready to forget it, given that we have plans this summer that will keep us from the farm for weeks at a time. But Mike said, "Anything we do this summer is all clear profit for next summer even if we don't have a great garden." So we moved along with our project to construct a raised bed for a vegetable garden.

First Mike got some old – really old -- used railroad ties that Ken's neighbor was discarding. Weeks went by -- then we cut them so that we had a bed 8 ½ feet by 3 feet. Next we bought wire fencing to line the bottom, hopefully deterring rodents that would burrow up through the ground. Then we lined the sides with black plastic. It ain't pretty, but in this environment – with the deer, the rodents, the lack of rain – well, it just isn't worth a large cash expenditure, especially when we're experimenting. (Secretly, though, I'm dreaming of some of those pretty snap-together affairs with sides that are also benches and overhead framework.)

Yesterday was the day of hard work. We decided to fill the frame with dirt from an uprooted tree at the back of the grove. Mike moved ten wheelbarrow loads from there to the frame on the south side of the house. I suggested he could stop at nine, but he said his personal goal was for ten and he refused to be deterred. Meanwhile, when the bed was about half full, I lifted the barrel off my compost pile and moved many gallons of my special blend to the bed. Then Mike took the little electric tiller and worked over the top to crush up what dirt clods he could and mix the compost with the dirt. Finally I poured gallons of water over it, raking and smoothing. Overnight we had a welcome heavy rain shower.

So, we had a productive day. Not only did we finish the raised bed but we whittled down the unsightly root ball and prepared the composter for a new batch of "special blend."

Today I planted corn in the raised bed. I thought about it long and hard, researched, and in the end decided that should the corn mature, that would likely happen at a time when we would be available to eat it. It's all one grand experiment – every bit of it. And after all, this place just means corn, doesn't it? KW

THE GREAT RODENT WAR AND MORE TALES FROM NATURE

Let me tell you about Wednesday (June 10) at the farm. We were up early like country folk. A representative of our fire insurance company would arrive at 10:00. I washed dishes while Mike swept the floor. When I opened the drawer under the oven, there was a stash of Nellie's kibble – a sure sign that mice are at work. I'm pretty sure it happened overnight. She had left a little chow in her dish and we debated about putting it away or using it as bait. We chose the latter but the mice avoided the trap.

As I was working at the sink, I happened to look out the window to the north field and saw a distinctive brown something bobbing up and down in the field. The grain is up only about a foot. I called Mike, and he saw it, too, just before it bobbed out of sight. He thought it was Nellie's brown head, but when he called her she came immediately from her resting spot by the woodshed. Mike and Nellie walked down the road to investigate but came up with nothing, of course.

The hummingbirds are few this year, a fact corroborated by our visiting insurance agent who lives in this vicinity. She said the season opened with many but suddenly and inexplicably their numbers dwindled. Last year I had to make fresh nectar every day. This year they never empty the feeder and I have to watch that the nectar doesn't spoil.

After lunch Mike loaded his road bike onto the 4-wheeler and headed out. He leaves the 4-wheeler at a spot on Old Highway 7 just where the gravel road becomes pavement. From there he rides his bike on to Nezperce. His reputation precedes him. Farmers from here to Nezperce and beyond talk about him and know that he lives at the Old Dobson Place. (It's a generality but probably true that the majority of farmers are not much interested in the benefits of exercise.) While Mike was gone, I took Nellie on a hike. Midway the lane (our driveway) I came onto a rattlesnake lying on the gravel. I was sure it was alive, so I took pictures, then tried to make it move by tossing gravel at it. It never flinched and never moved. Odd, I thought, but I wasn't going to spend the day pondering it. Nellie and I proceeded to our destination -- the old Senters place -- probably 2.5 miles from the farm by road – and came back cross country, which is much closer but rugged going across fields. On this leg of the hike I was surprised by the loud buzzing of bees – rather ominous. I never saw them; they must be in the ground.

I think it's an awesome sight to come up over the rise of the field and see our place in the distance. [See photo left.] I wonder if Grandma Ina ever saw this view of her house. Looking behind me the Senters place is still clearly visible. [Photo right.] Looking at my house, I think, "So near but yet so far." That was certainly true today. I struggled to find a good way to get to the road – frustrating since I could see where I wanted to be. Thick, tall grass made the route I took last fall impossible, so I had to retrace my steps to the old Plank place and trudge out that way. In the process, Nellie and I disturbed three white tail deer.

Now walking back up the lane, I was wary and especially concerned for Nellie, who wanted to walk in the grass. The snake I had pestered was no longer in the road, but as we moved closer to the house, I saw that brown animal moving around where I had spotted it this morning. Even from this proximity I couldn't see it well enough to identify it. I would guess it to be a badger or something of that ilk. I marked the spot with a reed I was carrying, but just then Nellie disturbed a rattler beside the road. I looked closely but never saw it. I took firm control of Nellie and we went to the house.

I enjoy the cross country hikes because they afford different views of the countryside, but I won't be doing it again for awhile. Nellie was plagued by ticks, and I captured one on my leg.

We came back to town yesterday (Thursday). We had to wait 20 minutes where Gilbert Grade enters the highway for construction at Orofino. Once they let us westbound vehicles go, the eastbound was backed up clear to Stoddard's Electric with more coming, of course – lots of RVs, too. We will probably take the prairie route for a while. KW

NOW – LET’S SEE – WHERE WAS I?

A convention, a birthday party, a "quick" road trip, a graduation, a wedding, short visits with three of our children – it doesn't even make a good movie title. I feel as though I have been away from this journal for a very long time. I knew it would be that way. The past ten days have been so busy for me (us). But, you know, a chronology of the past just isn't very interesting. So – let's move on.

I was shopping for groceries at Albertson's on Bridge Street in Clarkston yesterday when the "big storm" hit. Lights flickered, went out, came on, went out again and stayed out. You know how stores are – any natural light comes only through windows at the front. Without the lights, the store is dark. The emergency back-up system gave the store an eerie feel. Initially store personnel made no announcements, but I caught a glimpse of wind and rain as I stood in line at the check-out. After about ten minutes, I gave up the wait, shelved my potential purchases, and left the store. Notice I said – "shelved my potential purchases." That's because Hallie had a brief career in retail and told me how they hate folks who just walk away from their carts or put stuff down and walk out. Before I was finished an announcement was made that electricity might not be restored for several hours but that they "would do their best to get us out." Thanks but no thanks, I said to myself. Turned out the trouble was caused by a brief but unpredicted storm that blew a tree down onto a power line. The electricity was off at that location for more than an hour.

So, here we are at the farm, doing without those extra groceries. We'll be fine – we're staying only a couple of days. It's cool here (63) and wet.

Our Nikon CoolPix camera developed some sluggishness about the automatic lens cover that could no longer be ignored, so we shipped it for repair. Naturally, that didn't go easily. Even though we had registered the warranty when the camera was new, Nikon would not repair under warranty unless we provided the receipt. Keeping receipts seems problematic for us – we just don't get it. So, we had to make more phone calls to get the necessary paperwork in order to save $107 – half the original price of the camera. All paperwork is now in place and we hope to have the camera back soon. Meanwhile, I'm using a $20.00 interim camera we bought at Wal-Mart. The sales associate didn't even want to sell it to us. "Does that thing work?" asked a brother-in-law. For the kinds of pictures we like to take, we should think of upgrading rather than downgrading, I suppose. Thing is – I tend to get excited about the potential of things but frustrated in the reading of manuals and learning to use.

[The photos were taken at the farm with the "cheapy" camera. Photo 1: poppies before the backdrop of Grandma's spirea bush. Photo 2: iris transplanted from an old homestead being demolished. Photo 3: strawberry plants nibbled by the deer -- or the rodents. Photo 4: Grandma's lilac bush making a comeback.] KW

WASHDAY DEBAUCLE

I had the laundry sorted into neat piles. Mike helped me get the old washing machine connected after its winter rest. I put our dirtiest clothes into the machine and started it.

I was sitting at the computer (of course) when I heard it. As fast as my robe and slippers would let me go, I flew across the kitchen and into the utility room where a deluge was in progress. Soapy water all over the floor. I turned the machine off and screamed for Mike who leaped into action from his "work" at the desk in the den. I grabbed towels and mops while Mike set the drain right and began damming the flow of water with the laundry on the floor. In retrospect it was a good save. The water stayed in the utility room. As always, the good news is that the floor is now clean.

Due to drying constraints, I was going to work along slowly at the laundry. That plan disappeared in a flash! Now the laundry was wet and added to it were the wet towels.

So, as the clothes came out of the washing machine, I divided them – some for outside on the clothesline, some to dry before the fire in the livingroom. Since it's muddy under the clothesline, I had to take a box apart so that I could stand on the cardboard in order to hang the clothes. On my first trip out, a passing snow flurry swirled around me.

[The first photos are of the utility room. This room was originally Grandma Ina's pantry and a closet on either side. The window behind the washing machine has a deep sill, probably for cooling pies and such. Note the window by the commode – "Mike's folly," I call it. The original purpose of this window (LJ tells me) was for passing wet clothes outside. And the final picture shows the same windows from the outside at the back of the house. They provided daylight for the closets and passageways of Ina's house that would have been dark otherwise.]

MISERABLY COLD AND WET

By the time we went to bed last night the wind was blowing. All through the night it howled and shrieked around the corners of the house, occasionally lifting and dropping the pieces of metal roofing Mike placed over the wood to keep it dry. When we woke at 5:45, there was white stuff on the roof, but that quickly dissipated. Nevertheless it was a cold and rainy day.

But – we came here with trees to plant – and plant we did. I kept thinking that a team of professionals would have 100 trees done in 10 minutes. I kept thinking that "Uncle Dan the Tree Man" would not choose today to plant. But it seems like here on the Camas Prairie it's either wet or dry. Looking at the worsening weather report we decided just to go for it and get it done. It's been a long time since I've been so cold, wet, and miserable. With the exception of one leftover tree, we finished the job.

I'm grateful for hot soup in the crockpot and a hot fire in the fireplace.

[It was not a good day for taking pictures. Mike plants a tree in the grove behind the house. I wait in the rain for him to take the picture and get back to work.] KW

BACK ON THE FARM -- AND CONNECTED!!!

Just a quick note to let you all know we're enjoying our first stay of the season at the homestead. It's great to be back to simple living -- as long as we're connected! That means Wild Blue satellite for the computers and Dish for the television. Wild Blue was great but Dish was more difficult. It took two calls to tech support to get our programming. And since cell service here is still poor, Mike made the call to Dish outside and talked to Eva the tech in the Phillipines. I stood at the open front door operating the remote as he relayed Eva's instructions to me. We have our programming now and hopefully we're good for the season.

We enjoyed a little geocaching this morning and picked up 100 tree seedlings from the University of Idaho. Mike spent the afternoon preparing places to plant them while I cleaned the livingroom and our bedroom.

The first day back is always a long day -- packing and unpacking and whatever else we have to do. Tomorrow we'll plant trees -- another long day.

ANOTHER DAY TRIP TO THE FARM

Sometimes spring comes to our area in February or early March. The days become warm and pleasant. Gardens are planted early. This was not one of those years. After several days of warmer weather this past week, culminating with temperatures in the mid-80s, we are now in the midst of another cool spell. "It feels like fall," remarked Mike. "You know, like when it's been hot and the wind comes up and the weather changes and suddenly it's fall." I hope that statement is not prophetic. Sometimes we have cool summers.

Anyway, cool weather or not, yesterday (Thursday) we loaded a few things -- and Nellie -- into the Dakota, hitched up the 4-wheeler, and went to the homestead. That's what we're really about – the modern homesteading experience. It was just another day trip. Mike had a list of chores, among them to fix the dishwasher, connect the monitor to the computer, check out the 4-wheelers, etc. In the afternoon he sawed up some limbs under the pines in the grove and then I helped him clear the debris. It was a chilly day. I never saw the temperature above 45. Housework for me included the start of spring cleaning, a review of pantry supplies, the making of lists. Together Mike and I switched a couple of mattresses.

I toured the yard. The daffodils under the pines in the grove are beginning to bloom. I'm sure they were originally planted because they follow the border of the grove, but they have gone wild and I should probably thin them this summer. They don't look as large and healthy as they were a few years ago.

Here behind the house the raspberry bushes are leafing out, the currant and gooseberry bushes planted last year are also looking healthy, and the rhubarb plant is making a comeback. The strawberry plants look prolific and I have weeding to do. The soil looked dry to me so I carried water.

And I missed seeing this Royal Imperial Frittalaria at its peak. This one bloomed much ahead of its fellows. I don't know why unless it happens to be in a warmer spot. I look forward to the next bloomers – the iris and the lilacs.

Construction on Highway 12 at the bridge in Orofino had us waiting both ways. This time of year I love to see the service berry in bloom along the river road, filling the gullies with feathery whiteness. We picked up a geocache at Spalding, then returned to the town house for supper. Mike lit a fire in our little woodstove. I turned on the electric blanket. It was 31 at 6:00 a.m. this morning. Temps are predicted to be in the 60s over the next five days -- just not very warm. I suppose it's good weeding weather.

We will spend a few days at the homestead next week but our schedule for the next month also includes town activities.

OUR FIRST SPRING VISIT TO THE HOMESTEAD

The warmer spring weather has made us homesick for the homestead, so yesterday we made a day trip to check on things and de-winterize the house. The day was overcast; the temperature was 56 when we arrived but a strong wind developed. We pulled a trailer with railroad ties we will use to build a raised bed garden. Despite the amenities we have added to the house, it always feels like we're taking a step back in time.

Our first de-winterization task was to turn the water on. We were so relieved – no leaks or problems immediately apparent.

Now, if you're a lover of furry little rodents – if you like to visualize Mother Mouse in an apron, bustling around as she tends to her brood – you might want to skip this paragraph. We next emptied the mousetraps – one in the downstairs shower (why do they like that shower?), four in the living room, two in the service room, none in the oven. Rodents are the downside to country life. And the mice aren't the worst of it! The garden and yard on the south side of the house (see picture above) are riddled with rodent holes and tunnels probably caused by voles. I researched voles last summer and their rate of multiplication is horrific. I spent a good bit of time applying poison (Prozap) to the holes.

When we winterized in December, we cleaned out the refrigerator and turned it off, so Mike plugged it in and checked out the water line. Since it was empty, I washed it thoroughly. After lunch I started the dishwasher. The good news is that I had the unplanned opportunity to mop the kitchen floor. The bad news, or course, is that the dishwasher leaks, but Mike ascertained the problem to be the lack of an adequate clamp rather than winter damage to a hose – an easy fix.

Mike's chores included charging the battery on the smaller 4-wheeler, preparing spots to plant trees in the grove, picking up limbs in the yard, and vacuuming the house. I cleaned the holiday stencil designs off the windows, put away the Christmas ornaments, and inspected the attic. I found a doll I was missing in a big garbage sack with "Boofy," my old stuffed dog. And, as always, I brought back some things – this time my diminutive doll clothes for cleaning, organization, and better storage. I also brought back Grandma Ina's cherished volume, "Happy Homes and the Hearts that Make Them, or Thrifty People and Why They Thrive," by Samuel Smiles, 1889. The focus of the book seems to be the value of the feminine arts, a subject I have been considering lately.

Late in the afternoon, Mike drove the old beater (Dodge Ram) back to town while Nellie and I followed in the Dakota. It was a productive day.

[Photo 1) South side of the house. 2) You can see a few patches of snow in this view to the north. 3) Mike carrying the weedeater. 4) The rhubarb I planted last year miraculously re-appears.] KW

SPRINGLIKE WINTER DAY

This beautiful February Sunday was made for an outing, so Mike and I took the dog and went to the homestead to check on things. We drove clear in to the house; I think just about any vehicle could make it in. The soft ground would be more troublesome than the snow. While the fields are still white, the snow is gradually disappearing. There were a lot of llimbs in the yard, but everything looked fine. We found no mice nor sign of any. I checked my project closet, picked up some embroidery floss, and packed Mother's last recipe box into the pickup. We dismantled the artificial tree and stored it in the barn and put the tv set back in the entertainment center.

Outside I checked the hill behind the clothesline for signs of spring (sprouting bulbs). Just as I decided it was too soon, I noticed some tender green sprouts poking through the ground. The tag said iris but I don't know – could be I also tucked some crocus or other such early bloomers into that spot. We stopped a few minutes to discuss the raised bed vegetable gardens we plan to establish this year.

We were back in town by 12:30. During our travel we continued listening to "Letters of a Woman Homesteader." Once we were home, Mike set to work. He washed the filthy Dakota and his motorcycle. Then we went to Costco where he picked up supplies for work and I bought an iHome compact iPod speaker/clock radio which I set up at bedside. After that I walked Nellie while Mike took an actual bike ride out Peola Road. Nice to have the days a little warmer and a little longer – noticeably light at 5:00.

Tonight Mike will grill pork loin chops for dinner and I'll make an apple pie. KW

WORKDAY

So – after we left Staples on Friday, Mike and I drove on to the homestead. We had called Pete, our neighbor, and he agreed to plow out Dobson Road and our lane so that we could get in to the house. We were able to make it in and so did the Sears repair tech, who thinks he fixed the tv set. We’ll know for sure come May when we start keeping house again.

We laughed when we saw that the outhouse is now upside down. I haven’t used the place since the day I found the rattlers in there. This isn’t the first time it has tipped over, but it is the first time it landed on its roof. Checking our mousetraps, we found only two victims. I suppose there’s still 18 inches of snow there, though standing water at the clothesline indicates the ongoing thaw.

I have learned to start with the important stuff first, so I went to the vintage sewing room before I did anything else. I picked up a few more projects and odds and ends of this and that.

Then I set to work in earnest. As I undecorated the tree, I was so grateful that I streamlined my ornaments and my storage system. You know, I miss having a big “real” tree and putting up all my ornaments, but when it comes to putting them away, I’m glad I can do it quickly. And besides, the collection continues to grow in spite of me. I was reminded of family and friends as I worked.

Then I cleaned out the refrigerator so that we could turn it off. Sounds so easy, doesn’t it? One short sentence. But of course, even though it was basically bare, dressings and sauces, jams and jellies, ketchup and mustard -- it all adds up. We left nothing in the fridge or the freezer and turned it off. I also gathered open products from the pantry so that we can use it up during town time.

Mike hitched the 4-wheeler to the Dakota and we left before 3:00. Arriving back at the Clarkston house, I combined containers of like products so that I could fit the food into the refrigerator and freezer.

It felt like a day of real work.