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 d
rying 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.]
eave nothing. "Can I have the doll?" I asked Mike. So I got the doll and Mike left something from his geocaching bag.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 he
re 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
I have an interest in recipes and one of my favorite categories is rhubarb. At my first married home, we had a rhubarb plant, and the neighbors on either side of us helped themselves. I suspect the previous wife hadn't cared. It was a prolific old plant, so it was really all right.
One evening, our neighbor Faye, a dear elderly lady who put up with us for years, appeared at my back door with a scrumptious rhubarb dessert – a kind of rhubarb upside-down cake. It was delicious, and I asked her for the recipe. She said she would give it to me, but she didn't, and I didn't like to beg. But I really wanted that recipe. So one day when my mother was visit
ing, I mentioned the rhubarb dessert made with a cake mix, marshmallows, and Jell-O. "I have that recipe, Kathy," Mother said, "and I will give it to you." On her next visit, she handed me the recipe for rhubarb cake. If I ever knew how Mother came to have that recipe, I don't remember now. But looking through her recipes, I came across her copy with Sara noted as the source. Sara was her sister-in-law, my Aunt Sara [see photo].
You can see by the contrast in the two recipes that I used mine frequently and should have been more careful with it. Mother probably used hers seldom -- if ever at all.
When we moved to the "big house," I planted a strawberry rhubarb plant and we enjoyed rhubarb desserts in the spring. But then we moved and the rhubarb plant stayed behind. Last year I tried and failed to get a plant to grow here in town (terribly hot in summer and sandy soil). The one on the farm has been slow to set on but is making a comeback. We'll see how it goes.
At m
y childhood home in Orofino, we had a rhubarb plant out near the alley – a huge old thing with very healthy stalks. My dad loved to pull a stalk, sprinkle it with salt, and eat it raw like it was the most delicious thing he ever tasted. Mother made at least one pot of rhubarb sauce every spring. Recently someone told me that a large stand of rhubarb exists in the Gilbert country not far from the homestead. I'd love to know more about that.
This afternoon I planted daisies I found at Costco in pots I bought at Albertson's. If they survive the hot summer, they might go to Hallie's wedding. If they don't – they won't. Simple as that.
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 blo
om. 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.
