Kablink

Kablink….barely 7:30 on a beautiful Saturday morning in May and no power.  No wind, no sound, no flicker. Wait for it, it will come back on in just a moment.  Hmmm, it didn’t so no point in waiting poised to reboot the computer.
Go outside and check the breaker box & meter. This is so much easier on a nice morning than it is in the fall or winter.  Of course, in the winter you can look through the branches and see if the neighbors have any lights on.  If they don’t, it is not just us.  Breakers are all on and ‘no one is home’.  Hmmm, use the cell o phone and call it in.  It is all automated these days, but if it is an outage, you keep pushing the #1, and finally enter your home phone number.  The recording thanks you politely for reporting, but you don’t get any information.
Call a neighbor down the road.  No answer.  Call your sister because it is about that time of day and you don’t want the phone in the bedroom ringing because hubby is taking advantage of no power and is napping.  It is the only land line phone that works when the power is out.  Yep, old fashioned wired in, not a cordless! Which is why we keep it.
Yak with her a bit, and realize the call waiting feature of the cell phone is activating.  Manage to put her on hold, take the other call [from the neighbor, who DOES have power] and get back to sister without losing her!  Wow, first time I’ve ever done that, and had this cell phone for almost 2 1/2 years!
Call the power company again to get an ‘update’ and the friendly recording says yes they know, and it should be fixed by 11 AM.  No clue as to the problem.
Make up the beds in the spare room as we have company coming, and blessedly there is plenty of light to make beds by!  Can’t vacuum, mop, wash dishes or clothes, or continue cooking.  Can’t check the email, play Words with Friends or water plants.  Can’t sew bears and really don’t have any to cut out right now.
Might as well read for a bit.
Truck noises and someone honks the horn outside the door.  Not many have keys to our gate, and sure enough it is a power company truck.  He verifies the address and that I still have no power.  Walks over to the meter and says “well you are red tagged, it means they shut you off.”  WHAT THE HECK?? And EXCUSE ME, but we’ve been paying the bill for 37 years here, EVERY month and the last one JUST came this week!  “Well, Ma’am, that’s what the red tags mean.”  NO WAY, and it has been hanging there for years, ever since they put in the ‘new’ electronic meter AND set it so I couldn’t open our breaker box without taking the hinges off I’ll have you know.
He says “I’ll call it in” which he does and says they’ll check it and get back to him.  Meanwhile he pulls red tag [‘hmm, kinda an old type’] and pulls the meter.  He comments that usually if it has been shut off they also put something in behind the meter, which is not there.  Well of course it is not there, we have been paying!  Gets out his volt meter and nope not even a trickle of power to the main switch.
Now he is looking up at the pole with the transformer on it [such a beautiful feature in the corner of our yard, but hey, gotta have it] and says ‘fuse not blown’ but…’hmmm, looks like a loose wire, how the heck could that happen?’
While he is trying to figure out if he can get his bucket truck to the pole [nope, can’t] the office calls back and says they can find no reason for our power to be shut off.  Well, HELLO.  Of course he has already figured out that is not the issue anyway!
Do we have power?  Yes, he climbed the pole, and reconnected the wire.  It had apparently been loose for some time as it showed a lot of melting on the end.  Not dangerous to anyone where it was located but certainly not conducive to a constant flow of power to our house.  By 10 AM we were back in business.

Kids Working….

WHO decided kids should not work in their family businesses?   There is a move afoot to make it impossible for children of farmers to work on their own family farms.  I don’t want to talk about the whole political side, as we each have our own strong feelings.  I want to ruminate about kids working.

This is not about children trapped in basement sweat shops, forced to work for a bread crust.  Nor is it about children denied their education and forced to work in terrible factory conditions.

THIS is about children being denied their right to learn in a hands on environment, close to nature, while helping their families.  Children who would grow up with not only a long list of abilities but a better understanding of the environment.  Children who would learn where the food for nations comes from, and the attention and responsibility and education that goes with it.  Children who would understand the importance of continued learning   to meet the needs of today’s world.

Although the current discussion is about farmers, this special learning opportunity is there in any home owned business, and has been through generations.  Yes, it helps families survive, and for a time is ‘free’ labor.  Free?  These children are fed, clothed,   and taught a long list of life skills.  They go to school, participate in activities, and often are leaders.  They grow up understanding work ethic; ie, show up on time, do your job to the very best of your ability, and never quit learning.  As they acquire ‘book learning’ whether through public, private or home schooling, they are better able to correlate it to their life lessons.  This improves understanding at home, at school and in their future lives.

Most of our formative years were spent ‘off the grid’, not that we knew the term in those days.  It was just how we lived.  For many years we lived on a homestead in Alaska. That was followed by an old mine and a ranch in Arizona and other places that required work.  We were expected to help with whatever we were big enough to help with. Period.  We were expected to do our best at home and at school [both home schooled and public], to think for ourselves and yet be courteous to others whether they deserved it or not.  Although we never lived on a big farm, there are similarities in the conditions.

My own boys grew helping in the garden and learning to ‘recycle’; ie, re-purpose a variety of items.  They looked forward to spending time with aunts and uncles who had ranches and hay farms.  They learned to drive machinery, to work hard, eat hearty and have a sense of accomplishment because of that.  This carried on into their adult lives, and will pass along to their children.

Is there something wrong with that?

[I’ve seen some posts alleging that this is just a proposal and ‘no where near implementation, but that it would even be considered is appalling.]

Sam? Who’s Sam?

I was visiting with my sister when I

So much happier!

So much happier!

received a photo on my phone of a smiling granddaughter, followed by a text I shared with my sister.  She says, “Well that’s good but who is Sam?”
“Huh?”
“Sam, is that a friend?”
“I don’t know any Sam…why do you ask?”
“You said Sam.”
“No, I didn’t.  When?”
“When you were talking about GD feeling better, according to Sam.”
“Huh?”  [You notice I am back to Huh now!]

We stare at each other.  Our Mom is looking from one to the other completely bewildered.  I show her the photo, albeit it is an inch square and she smiles, says the great-granddaughter sure is cute.

Yes I can take, send, receive photos but my phone is primarily…a phone.  If I want to see the pictures without my glasses and a magnifier I send them on to my email, which little thing I figured out after months!  Older grands were a huge help in this learning process.

Back to Sam, I’m thinking about him.  Only one that comes to mind at that moment is a character on a program on TNT.  Nope, he does not live with my kids, hasn’t texted me or even said hi in the old fashioned way.  He is kinda cute, but I have a grandson his age.

All of a sudden I realize what she heard.  “…a 2 1/2 hour nap this AM and she’s feeling much better.”   Yep, there IS a sAM in there!!!  With my explanation, we both begin to laugh hysterically [now our mother is really confused, but smiles because we are obviously happy and not just hysterical]

We reminisce about a few other ‘mistaken’ hearings, and chuckle again as we walk down the lane in search of pussy willows.  At some point my sis comments “Who knew I had more than one kind of willow?”
“Sam” I say, “I’m sure he knew.”  Another bout of giggles, and we head back to the house with a double clutch of pussy willows, grasses, colorful sprouts to make a lovely early spring arrangement.  I should have brought a forsythia branch from home.

Snow….

Snow…..

Finally, getting near the end of winter and we had a Leap Year snow storm!  To folks who live in areas that receive considerable snow every year, it wasn’t much of a storm, but it did fiddle fart around and dump a few inches randomly.  By randomly, I mean some lower elevations received more than their higher friends, one side of town more than another, and of course vice versa.  Typical around here!  [Hm, sounds like an oven I had once, neither could it bake evenly or level.]

The biggest excitement with this snowfall was that, being retired now, I didn’t have to drive in it, worry about school delays, answer the phone a million times or wonder if everyone was getting home okay.  With a cup of coffee in hand and warm toes, I could reminisce on past snows.  I could hibernate right here at home, in my bear den, and grin.

There were the days when a new snowfall lured us out with our sled for hours of play.  We’d continue on in the light from the cabin window until Mom announced supper.   We’d leave a supply of snowballs on a ledge in our snow fort to freeze up overnight.  Sometimes we even had a moonlight jaunt on the dogsled.  We didn’t live in Oregon back then, a homestead in Alaska was our address.

Then when we lived closer to town, there was the whole issue of the school bus.  Heavy snowfall would have our Dad tromping the trail with his snowshoes first, then we’d layer up and head out for the bus stop.  The plows were always out early, but you’d have to climb over the mountain of snow to get to the road.  Then, you might have to help push the school bus up Cemetery Hill.  This is the same hill that was sometimes cordoned off for organized sledding parties.

Okay, the sun is shining and I’m out of here for a bit!

Homestead in Alaska 1949 or '50

Homestead in Alaska 1949 or '50

It Went Where?

It went where???

Ha, must have been referring to my brain!  I very carefully saved this page, with only the heading on it, so I would remember what I wanted to write about.  Oh yes, THAT worked well.  Didn’t even revisit it for two weeks or more and, really, you think I remember why the title?

It may have, in truth, been a commentary on things we forget.  We don’t really forget them, they are just lost in the many files in our brain.  Ever been in an office that had rows of filing cabinets?  Ever worked in one?  You know there is a system but it still pretty much requires a person to be in charge of just where files are, how to quickly access them.  We only have us, and as you know ‘us’ are busy with a multitude of things which probably is not recalling where every single item is filed away.

I have had those missing bits of information float to the surface in the middle of driving, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a dream.  My granddaughter can attest; we were headed to her school and in the middle of a totally unrelated conversation I yelled “Gloria Urias”.  This is not an epithet, but the name of a friend I competed against in the Miss Santa Cruz County contest in 1964.  She sang ‘On Wolverton Mountain’, I gave a speech, neither of us won.

The mind is a marvelous thing, even when it forgets where the data is stashed.  I’ve fretted over a website issue for hours, gone on to other things.  Worked on it in my dreams, continually looping the issue until it was solved, or just woke in the morning with an “Aha! Let’s try this!”.

You are wondering if I remember yet what my original intent for this piece was?  Heck no!  So we will just let it roll ? .

Still searching for a piece of fabric I know I had, cute little bears on it, the blue jeans one I think.  Fake denim look, ‘squares’ about inch or so, random bears.  Seen it?

The other day it was two shipping boxes I had snagged while shopping.  Store clerk was emptying them, they were a perfect one bear size, and I am totally into recycling when it comes to shipping boxes.  Brought them home, and then could not find them.  Well, you know where they went?  Onto the designated ‘shipping box’ shelf in the shed! However, I had forgotten that I had set up an area just for that purpose.  Organization only works when you remember you ‘had a plan’!

Enough of this, I need to work on a piece about snow before the weather changes!

There’s a Cow in My Yard? Pt 2

Happily this nice bovine is wearing a halter, and is interested in the grain she offers.  Unhappily he is NOT impressed with being attached to a tree, and manages to pull the short lead rope off.  Finally she is heading toward the gate with him following and I nip through the back, grabbing my leather gloves and down to unlock the gate.  She can crawl under, no way is THAT old black and white going to manage.  [If you remember Ada, she was much more nimble.]
I get down there, and the steer is already doing it’s own thing again, which means heading for the brush line minus it’s owner.  Well, crud, I’m still packing the warehouse key anyway, not the gate key, so at least she is not waiting on me. Back up the hill, exchange keys, make a brief potty stop as it looks like this could be an extended exercise session and back down the hill.  They are in the burn, just above the garden spot.  You don’t know about the burn? Ah, another day…

By the way, this old steer is growing as we watch him.  He has some serious weight to shove around.  So do I.  But he is beginning to make me feel almost….petite?  Okay that would be stretching it a mite!  The neighbor has him hooked now with two lead ropes, the ends around a tree and looped to on another.  He is NOT liking it one bit.  We try to shorten the lead so he has less room to throw his weight, and down I go on my backside.  Good soil down there, not too hard, but I’m sure glad I missed the fertilizer he’s been spreading AND took that potty break earlier.

He IS temporarily secure, so the neighbor backs her truck in the gate, and over to our ‘pine tree squeeze shoot’. Yeah, you know that is said tongue in cheek and hand rubbing the posterior.  Hurray! In the truck she finds a new tow rope; way longer than we need, bright yellow and looks too darn skinny but this has to work.

I mention that she’ll have a tale to share with the granddaughters and she laughs and says oh yes, they think she does nothing all day.  Plus whenever there is an animal issue, it is always on a day her husband is working. Of course, we know that!

As far as we know, no one was out taking videos, because this last bit getting Ada’s cousin transferred from pine trees to truck bumper was quite the effort.  With the lines strung rather like a block and tackle, it was a case of loosen here, tighten there, now unclip a line while quickly snugging up the main one.  Eventually, there he was, double fastened, looped and knotted and prayed over, with about five feet of lead behind the truck.

Well what do you know? He never even flinched when she started the truck, just placidly followed as she eased down the drive to the gate and through.  UNTIL, the edge of the paved road. He locked his knees, almost sat down.  I had new visions, of the rope breaking and a fridge full of steak and hamburger tumbling backward into the gate posts with more than enough force to flatten them.  Didn’t happen.  A bit of tire burning, low gear grumbling and he gave in….trotted off up the road behind the old truck and, so far, that is the last I saw of them.

There’s a Cow in My Yard?

Striped ‘cardigan’ for granddaughter

This morning it was colder than a _______ (you fill in the blank, there will be a test later).  Subsequently of course the sun shone, right in the front window making any viewing that direction almost impossible.  I’m not talking about JUST the TV, either!  However, those new drapes work great and are easy to draw, so we did.

When I use my serger, it has to sit on the end of the dining room table because the sewing machines [two of them] occupy the only other logical options.  They are full time employees, unlike the serger who has totally random part time work.  I’ve closed the curtains so I can watch TV while using the serger.  After a bit of head scratching and too familiar pondering, I’ve remembered how to change the thread, all four spools.  Minor interruption when the youngest granddaughter requests my presence on Skype.  Back to the serger and two garments later, wow, I really got them done!  Clean up my mess, do a bit of hand embellishment on one of the two drapey shruggy cardigan deals [for our teenage granddaughter], and it is lunch time.

Next, cut out a cloth book project, which included a trip to the warehouse for the lightweight batting to put in it.  Not going to draw a map, but make a note that one goes out the back door, and behind most sheds etc. to access the warehouse.  Nice spot of warm sunshine, smell of coffee from the coffee roaster down the road, birds singing… .  batting is not there, of course, because…it is already inside!  Well, heck.  Just found it and resume measuring and cutting when there is knocking at the door.  Our gate is locked and we heard no vehicles.

Sure enough, a lady from a few corners up the road is there, apologizing for her cow being in our yard.  “There’s a cow in the yard?” I dumbly ask.  “Yes, I was driving by and well there he was.”

Well, my gosh, who knew?  The cow is a well-grown steer, and isn’t in the yard but out grazing on our drain field.  With the curtain closed in front we never saw movement, and [remember] had only been out behind the buildings.  She had to duck under our driveway gate to get up to the house and alert us she would be traipsing back and forth trying to corral her vagrant bovine.

Nice gal, know her through her grandkids, so of course I offer to help. If nothing else make sure the steer stays out front and does not come up between the sheds where it can run amuck in board piles, through the carport etc. Visions of “Ada the Ayrshire” on a bad day flicker through my mind.  But, the sun is shining, and I need the exercise.  Right……

Had Company Today Part 2

Now, fast forward until December because it was that long before I got back to this project.  Bear orders and family time took precedence.  With the last order shipped and a great book on tape started, what else can I sew?  I listen to a lot of books on tape or CD but ONLY when I am using the sewing machine.  Ah, yes, dig out that armful of fabric and measure it again.  Measure the window opening and framing, maybe twice to make sure.  Figure out how much I will need for the hems and how long the loops will need to be. One more time before cutting the fabric, although I seem to have it in excess.

I used the rotary cutter to cut the strips for the loops, which reminded me I need to get a new blade for it soon.  Used some Heat ‘n’ Bond to help stiffen them just a bit in addition to the tri-fold and stitch.  Got to the end of my book and to Christmas.  Many hours were spent enjoying family, not worrying about the curtains!

Finished the fabric construction between Christmas and New Years, and scheduled with myself to attack the rod replacement Monday of the New Year. Sunday was removal of the Christmas tree, and random decorations. Yes you are now up to the present, seeing it all in color again!  Monday; move a trunk, move the TV, remove the old curtains.  Not so bad but how is that rod held up there?  Did I nail it when I installed it decades ago?  Oh thank heavens, no, there are screws.  By the way, BOTH of my cordless drills have dead batteries, grumble.  Plug the Craftsman in, it should charge up while I am still removing things, fighting with cobwebs etc.  A medium flat bladed screwdriver with a good grip, a step stool and a solid chair bring me luck with the brackets and soon the old is out the door.  Windows and TV have not been hit in the process.  Dust again, with rag and shop vac.

Definitely time to ponder again, because this new rod is solid.  It slides through the brackets, and I do not have ten feet of open space past either end.  End brackets first, then slide the middle bracket on the rod and position/fasten it once the ends are both back in their brackets.  There is enough movement available to put the curtain on afterward, and place the finial caps firmly in place.