Why Here

Why here? My husband and I moved to this small Eastern Oregon town 3 1/2 years ago. It was almost a cliché. He came home from a motorcycle adventure, the Hells Canyon Motorcycle Rally, and announced, “You have to see this place”. Our friends, who had also been on the trip, were already searching for property. I had driven by on the gritty, truck rutted I-84 a few times, often late at night and usually commented how beautiful the snow capped mountain scenery appeared.

It never occurred to me we would seriously uproot and move within a few months. Particularly, as after 20 years of marriage we had just completed my dream kitchen remodel complete with real Hickory cabinets and starry night black granite countertops with copper flecks and an arty dangle light over the expansive cooking surface and wine sipping area. Especially, as my husband was known to hate moving and treated his home purchased 34 years before as his man cave and sanctuary. You could have made a Las Vegas bet with odds of a million to one, that he would never move. Really. Just ask his best friends and relatives.

Why here. To some eyes, it’ s a small town with few job prospects, no mall, big diesel trucks with unleashed dogs in the back, and dodgy looking fella’s squinting in the bright sun ,occupying sidewalk corners, staring as the outsiders BMW convertible zips past on Main street. Throw in the occasional hoarder’s contraption filled yard (a metal scrap man’s dream) and you can see why a person barely passing through with big city eyes might keep on passing.

Here is where I nearly fell out of my sandals laughing the first several times someone actually stopped so I could cross the street; no crosswalk light required. And then the teenaged kid revving his truck loudly rolled down his window and apologized, saying it kept dying on him and he was just trying to get it home. And the people passing by on a riverside walk looked me in the eye, smiled, and said Good Morning. I actually existed.

Here is where I found a coffee shop, with people interested in who was new in town, and where you had traveled and what you might want to see next. The coffee was terrific, and yes, they could make a non-fat no foam Latte. Here is where the bookstore has an amazing collection of history and mystery and new best sellers and old timer’s memoirs. The library is modern and beautiful and striving to serve every community member.

It turns out that most of the fella’s on the corner were squinting because it was sunny that day and they don’t own fancy Oakley shades, and were leery of stepping boldly out in front of the tourist who didn’t know it was only polite to let pedestrians cross the street even if you had a green light. The dog in the truck was likely either Mr. Jones well mannered farm dog, or one of the future assistance dogs being trained in town. The dress shop and the gift stores have more than enough beautiful pretties to satisfy all but a shopaholics cravings. The jewelry stores have stunning and original pieces, as well as the tasteful and affordable. The groceries are stocking locally grown and organic produce next to favorite staples. The constable may even give a newcomer a pass at the confusing cross lanes on 10th and Hughes Lane. The first time.

Here is where 20 minutes gets you to Huckleberry bushes and pristine reservoirs. Here, a heron rookery, bluebird trail, and peregrine nests are common but no less awe inspiring. If you name all the bird and wildlife you see in a day here, the “ditchsiders” are likely to think you are lying. Here, the man with the junk in his yard, is very likely to offer to find you just the right part for that old lawnmower you need.
Here is where your neighbor will come over and help you tear off the old leaky gutters on your house; before you fall off the ladder. They offer to pick up your newspaper and feed your cat when you have to leave town. No charge, although a cup of coffee would be welcome.
Here is where your kids can still ride their bikes and play in the park. Here the historic Movie theatre, named after the original owners's wife (but spelled backwards we explain), still has Sugar Babies and Whoppers. Here, an inspiring arts community allows anyone to try their hand at crafting, Or you can just admire and it’s no big deal to rub shoulders with a painter and a potter. And the 360 degree view of snow capped mountains are beautiful.

Here is not Utopia. Things happen. Bad people are still bad people. Here people do have different strong opinions. But here, it is still your right to be your own person, be respected, and the coffee to be hot and the conversation to be lively. Stop in. You might even pack up and move here.

How much are you worth?

If you were ever waaaayyyy up an apple tree, where you had been carefully pruning with clippers and shears and pruning saws , and under you was a very nice aluminum garagae sale ladder with just a slight twist when you push off hard on the top step as you are trying to saw through a knothole...and it really gives you a scare as it tips away from your scrabbling feet...has anyone else wondered how long it would be before your spouse came looking for your body? Or came to rescue you at the top of the tree as you sat forlornly on an upper branch Y.Of course, the sun is shining, the quail are hooting in the field, the cat is staring at you from the neighboring Ash tree, wondering perhaps what exotic turkey that is in the apple tree.
It occured to me, it might be quite some time. After all, the Daytona 500 was on the television, honey....and really I was just about to come check on you...really honey-bunch...I would have come ...really.

The first week

The first week of 2010 has flown by. I finished Kellyn's baby quilt, only 3 months late. Im cleaning out the office. I spent a few hours remembering the past while going through old scrapbooks and collections.Im trying to eat right. I just finished a great although somewhat grim book by Tim Gatreaux entitled The Clearing.Very good writing.We celebrated a birthday for Irvs 70th, a ping-pong party, a goodbye party and watched so many football games my eyes are crossed. The exercise thing is NOT going so well.
The garage constuction is proceeding despite the freezing weather. Rod and I are very excited about that. It was looking like a mud bath outside for a bit.
We are trying hard this year to bring the positive to the forefront, and leave the negative behind.

I really am...

The agony of Christmas is almost past. But that's another thought. Time for the New Year and its resolutions. I was cleaning my house (well, a small corner of it) and thought of the new year.
This year, 2010, I really am going to....
1) Have that Garage sale and get rid of all the knickknacks I dont ever take out.
2) Write a chapter or two of those books spinning in my head
3) Plan that trip to France and Italy Im going to take someday
4) Read all the books in my stack
5) And increase my exercise ( this will be easy as going from zero to one minute worth counts!)
6)Finish some of the sewing/quilting projects that are piling up!
7) Plan the Orchard
8) Talk Wanda in to letting me take paino lessons on her new piano!!
9) Send out those notes to poeple I think of all the time but never quite dial up
10) Visit the beach at least twice

And you????

Sad Santa

Sorry folks its been awhile. Not that I didnt want to "talk" to you but sometimes sorting it all out just takes too much energy. Anyway, today's topic is Santa.
I personally witnessed a fairly sad Santa the other day. It was hilarious.We watched as  the 299th kid was plugged onto Santa's lap, by the Elf. The Elf who dangled candy canes in front of the kids nose then ripped it away and stuck the kid on Santa's lap.
They all screamed!!The kids that is. I think Santa wanted to scream too. He wasn't smiling. He wasnt Ho Ho ing. Nada. Nothing. A grim line where his smile should be, right above where the itchy white fake polyester looking beard was perched.
Our grand nephew did really well in line, dangling his legs over his Dad's shoulders and running his candy cane gooped fingers in Dad's hair. He was calm. Composed. Didn't look a bit worried like all the kids in front of him in line. Even the 8 year old looking kids were looking dubious. The one little girl, she outright howled. I admit it. I laughed like a hyena. It was funny. All those parents paid 10 bucks to have their lovely and sweet children photographed with  the man of Christmas, bringer of secret stuff, man of wrapped goodies and to whom they have written their most secretest desires and mailed to the North pole for his eyes only. But in person.... The Masked Red man just didnt fit the billing. He was fat, and fake, and furry. Ick.And some lady dressed in an Elf costume kept taking candy away. Geez!

2012

Lots of hype out there with Dan Brown's new book coming out. How the Mayans supposedly think 2012 is the end, etc. and all the other speculators. So, I thought to myself..what if? I suppose with a humongy asteroid or some crazy person with a nuclear weapon its possible life could change radically very fast. I figure if that happened we wouldnt live through it anyway. Or if we did, it wouldnt be for long what with the air and water contamination. So, what do I do if this is it??? Enjoy every day. Try harder to enjoy the people we are with, send love to those we cant be next to but love. Share hope and kindness.Seek to improve the human condition?? Expand the mind to reach out and send good vibrations...hmmmm. Sit back with a glass of wine and ...enjoy the sunset.

End of Summer

Summer days are shortening. Evening light slips into the backyard much earlier. The sun sets noticeably farther south than a few weeks ago. It all seems sudden despite the constant subtle changes. The leaves are getting brittle and rustling but havent begun to fall. It makes me ponder the loveliness of an evening on the back deck, overlooking the field, perusing the softening crest of the nearby mountains.Blues and greys steal down the upper slopes and darken to emerald carpets and golden pastures. It's too far to see details of deer but close enough to see clumps of trees and fissures.
These gentle hours remind me of another favorite place. My friends back yard. They live on an acre or 2 of land bought many years ago from an aging couple who gardened. Its no longer a manicured area but a wild and delightful estate.My friend has tucked bulbs and woodland flowers into more traditional settings. We see  ferns or a trillium peeking out between azaleas and rhododendrens, ducks and brilliant blue jays streaking through the cherry tree, squirrels chittering over the pond...a paradise found. And lazing on a chair , chatting with her, in this place, is one of my favorite things.
So sitting in my own chair of a an early fall evening overlooking natures artistry, brings to mind soft reminders of many delightful times spent looking out at dusty pink coneflowers and discussing girl things....good times.