REMEMBERING HARD TIMES

And now we’ve had a death in our community, and someone in a retirement center is infected. Son Clint, who continues to work at the paper mill, called last evening to say we shouldn’t see each other for a while. We agreed. The Boise son, also working every day, said that one of those big digital reader boards over the freeway says, “Stay home!”

I’ve always felt that good things happen when a community comes together to make the best of hard times. The present circumstances hurt in more ways than one, but we have to make the best of it, regardless of what it means for us personally.  

“If I had acted like that,” I commented to Mike, “my mother would have had plenty to say.”

“You mean, ‘suck it up,’” laughed Mike.

“Yes, but it would have taken her ten minutes to say it.”

As a society, we’ve come a long way from hardship. I was born after WWII, but my parents shared with me their memories of hard times – how during WWI women were encourage to knit for the servicemen during church, how the community worked together to provide food to the quarantined during the flu epidemic of 1918, what it meant not to have the price of a postage stamp during the Great Depression, and how food, shoes, tires, and gasoline were rationed during WWII. As people pass, these things slip from collective memory.

I remember so well sitting at the supper table one night, when somehow the subject of WWI came up. Mother said that as the young men left for war, the community would meet at the park for a farewell picnic. I was struck by the finality of that.

“You didn’t know if you’d ever see that person again,” I said.

“You figured not,” Mother said in a flat tone.

She went on to say that they didn’t get much news about the war, but everyone knew that when “Tom” came home, he would tell them all about it. Tom was the kind that never quit talking, she said. Tom came home all right, but he was so traumatized (what they called “shell shocked”) that he couldn’t talk. He never talked again. She was perhaps ten years old at that time, but I could see she was as affected by that change in Tom as if he hadn’t come home at all.

Hard times bring difficulties, the least of which is personal inconvenience. The pandemic won’t leave the world where it found it. History tells us we will suffer some losses, but man will survive. KW

DE-WINTERIZING THE FARMHOUSE

It was just a quick trip. We took more provisions to the farm. We turned on the water, held our breath and listened for the telltale sound of running water, then pronounced it good. Mike turned on the refrigerator and it commenced to run. I made hot soapy water in the kitchen sink and washed out the refrigerator. We stayed a good two hours.
 

A mouse had tripped over the trap in the kitchen, so I set it to rights. In Mike’s storage shed, the mice had gnawed through the poison container and several of them had one last feast. Before we left, I baited the large gopher holes, but the ground is still wet. We’ll be fighting this battle forever, I fear.

Mike carried wood and laid a fire in the fireplace. I still have to put the Christmas tree away. The problem is that the lid broke on the plastic storage container, and apparently you can’t just buy a lid. That’s pretty bad, you know. Wasteful and bad for the environment because now that big container is mostly useless.

It was cold. When we left, it was 34 degrees and spitting snow. We drove out from under that and into a brief rain shower – early spring weather in Idaho. The cheapest gas we’ve seen was at the station on Riverside, so we filled up there.

These times of staying close to home are more difficult for some than others. I’m used to it and don’t mind. We were surprised to see quite a lot of traffic on the road yesterday – and lots of vehicles parked near the levee parkway. I heard a report that Washington state gets a “B” for staying home. Idaho gets a “D,” though to be fair, the order to stay home is still new. It’s tough to take it seriously when you don’t see cases in your community, but we must. Protecting yourself is the only way to protect the community.

Our children have suggested we get off for a long stay at the farmhouse, but we seem to have activities that keep us in town – like Mike’s physical therapy and spring yardwork. It’s not like we have close contact with people in town anyway – unless we go to the grocery store. 

They say it’s safe to pick up groceries and to receive shipments. We need to be most zealous about our hands. Don’t shake hands and keep washing. Wear gloves. Otherwise, maintain social distance. It’s divisive, but we have to do it. KW

IDAHO FINALLY SHUTS DOWN

Governor Little issued a “stay home” order for Idahoans yesterday (Wednesday, March 25). I just don’t think you can expect people to fully self-regulate through peer pressure in a situation like this, so I’m grateful for the order. Citizens and communities had somewhat stepped up to the responsibility, but it’s difficult to make such decisions on an individual basis. It’s just better to have a blanket order that leaves no doubt as to what you should do.

That said, I am relieved that both Idaho sons are employed in industries deemed essential, even though I want them to be safe. One works for the paper mill. They make toilet paper, and we now KNOW just how essential that is! He suggests that because people are hoarding the product, this will cut into future demand, but I say that there are many of us who didn’t hoard and will need to replenish.

It's a pretty day here but cold – below freezing. We’re off to the farm – another day trip. KW