SHOES TO MATCH MY DRESS

No? Not quite right?

A DOG-GONE SHAME

An excited Grandpa Mike was up at 5:30 a.m. Tuesday (7-7) and ready to head for Spokane to pick up Jack. We were just loading up to head out about 7:30 when the phone rang. It was Jack's dad, Yancey. "I'm just putting Jack on the plane now. I just wanted to be sure you'll be there. You should be there early to get checked in." Hmmmm, I think to myself. He doesn't trust us.

Well, it didn't go like clockwork. We were at the airport in plenty of time, but I witnessed for myself that signage at the airport wasn't what it should have been. For instance, our paperwork said that Jack would arrive on a Frontier flight, but not a single Frontier flight was listed amongst the arrivals. The 10:43 flight from Denver was a United flight. We picked up his luggage at a gate marked "Horizon -- Seattle."

Nellie was a bit reserved toward us when we arrived home, unaccustomed as she is to spending daytime hours in her kennel. But she was excited this morning. She gave Jack a "good morning" hug. Something was afoot, she could tell, and she was just sure it would include her.

Ken was here to pick up Mike and Jack for the trip up the Snake to hike and geocache near Rogersburg. I watched as Jack and Ken put Nell in the back of the 4-Runner. I looked out again and saw Jack in the backseat and Mike and Ken discussing a map. Then I heard them leave. So, I sat down to enjoy the quietude of the house for a while before heading over to town.

About 10 minutes passed, I think. Then -- "Clickitty clickitty clickitty clickitty . . . . . . " -- that sounds like Nellie running up to the back door. That IS Nellie at the back door. Poor thing! Somehow she managed to get left behind. Now I have people heading off for an adventure who don't even know they are missing a dog, and a dog who knows she has been left behind. At first I was kind of upset, but then I realized it was just an ordinary day at home with the dog, albeit a pouting dog. I decided not to worry about it. I went shopping. 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."

TO A WILD ROSE

Grandma Ina loved the wild roses that grow here and there at Gilbert and in many rural settings. I remember once when we were at the farm – probably not long after Ina's passing – my dad stopped the car and cut a wild rose blossom from a roadside bush. We then took it to her grave. Actually, I think the wild roses are a recognized problem now – growing so prolifically as to be a nuisance. We have a wild rose bramble bush behind the house at the farm – so overgrown that it really doesn't bloom well, but it's so thorny that we don't want to prune it. The hummingbirds frequent the small blossoms for nectar and the bush harbors the occasional bunny and who knows what else.

At first I didn't pay too much attention to the odds and ends of dishes leftover from Ina's housekeeping days. They seemed like old things, broken sets, perhaps antiques that shouldn't be used. But as I began to separate the dishes and ponder the patterns, I appreciated them more. There are creamy white plates with gold edges, several different styles of plates with shocks of wheat across them, and then the wild rose pattern with the name of the Homer Laughlin Company on the back. Writing to my dad after Christmas 1936, Ina says, "Shirley gave us a set of pretty plates in wild rose design and Shirley Jean gave us a sugar and creamer to match. I already had cups and saucers, platter and bowls in that design so feel pretty well fixed now for dishes."

My research indicates that the Homer Laughlin Company produced several sets of dishes called "Wild Rose." One was a blue design on white, of all things, and was produced as a cereal box "prize" or premium, probably for Quaker Oats. Plates, cups, saucers came with the oatmeal while extra pieces could be ordered by saving points coupons off the label. This is not Ina's pattern. Another pattern is called "Virginia Wild Rose," and is altogether quite dressy – very nice, I think. But this is not Ina's pattern either.

Ina's pattern, pictured above, was developed by the company in the 1930s. Though I did not inventory the pieces, the platter and an oval vegetable bowl are there, maybe four plates and one cup and saucer. I have thought of hanging the plates on the wall in the kitchen, but I guess I'm undecided about that. I've even thought that I might make it my quest to seek out the occasional piece at antique stores or maybe online. It's fun to have a quest.

[The placesetting shown is from Ina's "Wild Rose" collection by Homer Laughlin. The second photo is a blossom on the bramble bush behind the farmhouse. And the final photo I took at our neighbor's house. This rose is a deeper shade than ours. As you can see, the blooms are fading on both bushes.]

We came back to town this morning. It's hot -- perhaps the hottest day of the season so far -- 99 degrees as I write this. Mike will devote the next few days to getting ready for Jack's visit. We will pick him up at the airport in Spokane on Tuesday; on Wednesday Jack and Grandpa Mike will go camping on the St. Joe. KW

SPOILED!!!

Whaddya mean get down?
I was here first!

WOOD GATHERING

The other day we spotted a recently-fallen pine in the midst of that stand of trees, located just where Dobson Road comes into our lane. Although pine doesn't make for the best firewood, it does burn, and cleaning up the downed trees is an easy way of adding to the woodpile without cutting down a tree.






Mike -- starting the saw.














Cutting the fallen tree into measured sections for firewood.






A 4-wheeler trailer-load hauled to the woodshed for drying.






We thought this photo of the house from the "copse" was rather interesting. KW

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