It was just past five o'clock when I closed the office door and headed for my car. The October wind was blowing briskly. Little swirls of dust danced across the lawn and a big sheet of newspaper came blowing around the corner of the building. There was something exhilarating about the atmosphere. Overhead little puffy white clouds, perfectly spaced in formation, resembled white lines on the bias of a sky blue fabric. The sun would be setting soon. Its orange glow reached out from the west to tinge the edges of the cloud formations. The radio announcer warned that a hurricane strength windstorm was headed north through the Willamette Valley.
Five minutes later I pulled into my driveway. My husband and toddler sons were there to greet me,. "Better park up close to the house tonight," he advised." I immediately started preparing dinner and even thought it might be a good idea to heat a big pan of water.
Ben and Mark went down to their bedroom. They were definitely hyper! Mark tossed the little play table upside down on the floor while Ben threw in several sofa pillows and jumped in. Mark grabbed the converted table leg like a gear shift and they were varooming off on a big adventure. "I think we should open a couple of windows a crack to equalize the pressure," commented my husband as he headed for a bedroom.
Just as we were sitting down to eat dinner the lights went off. "What'll we do now?" asked Ben. We looked out of the dinette window and watched a small tree heaving at its roots, but it held. Our neighbor's trees were also straining at their roots. None were close enough to fall on our house so we didn't get too worried. We dined by candle light and I washed dishes by flashlight, glad I had heated that pan of water. My husband built a fire in the fireplace. Since we couldn't watch our favorite TV programs we spent the evening singing songs, telling stories and playing games until it was time for the boys to be in bed. Then we dashed out to the car so we could hear the storm report on the car radio. Wind gusts were clocked at 100 miles an hour! It was the storm that became known as The Columbus Day Storm.
Our lights came on about 6:00 a.m. because the line going to the hospital went past our street, but we didn't get phone service until 4:00 p.m. the next day. The day dawned as a beautiful crisp, clear day. A little dew sparkled across lawns strewn with fallen leaves and storm debris. We lived in the center of a horseshoe shaped drive, and big trees had fallen across the roadway on both sides of us. Chain saws could be heard in every direction as neighbors were helping neighbors to clean up, board up, or do whatever was necessary. As far as I recall, we were not afraid. We had experienced the Storm of the Century and lived to tell about it!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
FOREVER FRIENDS
What makes a true friend? Loyalty? Shared experiences? Reciprocity? Dependability? Similar interests? Comfort in times of trial? Acceptance of whowe are, as we are? Probably all of them.
My first real friend was Ilene. She was three and I was five. She didn't have any close siblings either. We played school and I was the teacher. I learned what reading really was with our matching Uncle Wiggly books. Ilene had a health problem--Juvenile Diabetes. I watched her mom make tests in test tubes. She grew up, got married and died in childbirth at age 21. The baby was lost too. I hope I can meet her again in the Spirit world!
When I was nine my parents moved to Portland. My best friend was Dolores. We played dressup and shared our fantasies about when we grew up. Later, we entered high school and she was pledged to a social club that did not pledge me. Later I saw that the kids Dolores was running around with had reputations for smoking, drinking and "necking." It was a difficult choice for me to change friends but I knew I had to. My new friend, Sandra, became the rose princess in our senior uyear. I lost touch with Sandra but saw Dolores several years later. She said that whenever she heard the Tabernacle Choir sing that she remembered me. Maybe I left a good impression on her.
My next close friend was a boyfriend--Dean. We went steady for a year when we attended high school. I was 16 at the time. I was a city kid who had just moved to a farm and was isolated from most of the kids I knew in school. Dean had lived at a childrens' home for a couple of years after his parents were divorced. We were just good friends who did social things together. When I was about 20 he came home on leave from the Navy and asked me to marry him. Remembering finding a beer can in his glove compartment one time, and that most of my uncles drank beer (you can't change a person if they don't want to change) , I told him he wasn't the person I wanted to be the father of my children and turned him down. Many years later I got a brief phone call from him from a phone booth. He said he just wanted to tell me that I was "there" for him when he needed it. I told him that he was "there" for me when I needed it too.
Shirley became my best friend after I went through a divorce. She too was divorced wiith children. We both worked at a Safeway office in Portland. We shared lunches and breaks, took walks and had long talks together. We attended church singles activities together. She was there when I first met Merle. She was remarried about six months after I was remarried. About ten years later Shirley got ovarian cancer and died a year later. I wish I could tell her how much she was "there" for me.
My cousin, Pat is a friend I've known most of my life. Whenever we get together we can pick up a conversation just where we left off the last time we were together. We have had many similar life experiences. She even lived with my parents after I got married. Not many of our cousins have been on church missions, but my husband and I served in Toronto and she went to Russia as a widow. We are both active in church and have attended temples together -- both Jordan River and Portland. We still write to each other occasionally.
My last best forever friend was Gayla, who became the world's best visiting teacher. She made sure I always had a ride to our evening Relief Society meetings. She would pick me up at the mission office and go to a park on some of my lunch breaks. Once we watched a baby bird learning to fly as we sat at an outdoor table eating ice cream. She took me and two other women to a senior citizen musical revue that was very enjoyable. The year after we returned to our home, she and her husband moved from Toronto to Alberta--which was not far from where some of my relatives lived. The next year we drove up there and spent a lovely evening with Gayla, her husband Gordon, and another missionary couple we knew in Toronto. By the next year we got word that Gayla was suffering from cancer and later got a card telling us she had passed away. That makes three of my forever friends who have gone through the veil, whom I look forward to meeting again.
That brings me back to my question, What makes a true friend? A song from the past comes to mind. "How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? How far would I travel to be where you are? How far is the journey from here to a star? And if I ever lost you how much would I cry? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?
There is one more Friend I am striving to be like--Jesus Christ. He is the model for all friendships. He said, "If you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me."
My first real friend was Ilene. She was three and I was five. She didn't have any close siblings either. We played school and I was the teacher. I learned what reading really was with our matching Uncle Wiggly books. Ilene had a health problem--Juvenile Diabetes. I watched her mom make tests in test tubes. She grew up, got married and died in childbirth at age 21. The baby was lost too. I hope I can meet her again in the Spirit world!
When I was nine my parents moved to Portland. My best friend was Dolores. We played dressup and shared our fantasies about when we grew up. Later, we entered high school and she was pledged to a social club that did not pledge me. Later I saw that the kids Dolores was running around with had reputations for smoking, drinking and "necking." It was a difficult choice for me to change friends but I knew I had to. My new friend, Sandra, became the rose princess in our senior uyear. I lost touch with Sandra but saw Dolores several years later. She said that whenever she heard the Tabernacle Choir sing that she remembered me. Maybe I left a good impression on her.
My next close friend was a boyfriend--Dean. We went steady for a year when we attended high school. I was 16 at the time. I was a city kid who had just moved to a farm and was isolated from most of the kids I knew in school. Dean had lived at a childrens' home for a couple of years after his parents were divorced. We were just good friends who did social things together. When I was about 20 he came home on leave from the Navy and asked me to marry him. Remembering finding a beer can in his glove compartment one time, and that most of my uncles drank beer (you can't change a person if they don't want to change) , I told him he wasn't the person I wanted to be the father of my children and turned him down. Many years later I got a brief phone call from him from a phone booth. He said he just wanted to tell me that I was "there" for him when he needed it. I told him that he was "there" for me when I needed it too.
Shirley became my best friend after I went through a divorce. She too was divorced wiith children. We both worked at a Safeway office in Portland. We shared lunches and breaks, took walks and had long talks together. We attended church singles activities together. She was there when I first met Merle. She was remarried about six months after I was remarried. About ten years later Shirley got ovarian cancer and died a year later. I wish I could tell her how much she was "there" for me.
My cousin, Pat is a friend I've known most of my life. Whenever we get together we can pick up a conversation just where we left off the last time we were together. We have had many similar life experiences. She even lived with my parents after I got married. Not many of our cousins have been on church missions, but my husband and I served in Toronto and she went to Russia as a widow. We are both active in church and have attended temples together -- both Jordan River and Portland. We still write to each other occasionally.
My last best forever friend was Gayla, who became the world's best visiting teacher. She made sure I always had a ride to our evening Relief Society meetings. She would pick me up at the mission office and go to a park on some of my lunch breaks. Once we watched a baby bird learning to fly as we sat at an outdoor table eating ice cream. She took me and two other women to a senior citizen musical revue that was very enjoyable. The year after we returned to our home, she and her husband moved from Toronto to Alberta--which was not far from where some of my relatives lived. The next year we drove up there and spent a lovely evening with Gayla, her husband Gordon, and another missionary couple we knew in Toronto. By the next year we got word that Gayla was suffering from cancer and later got a card telling us she had passed away. That makes three of my forever friends who have gone through the veil, whom I look forward to meeting again.
That brings me back to my question, What makes a true friend? A song from the past comes to mind. "How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? How far would I travel to be where you are? How far is the journey from here to a star? And if I ever lost you how much would I cry? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?
There is one more Friend I am striving to be like--Jesus Christ. He is the model for all friendships. He said, "If you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me."
Monday, September 21, 2009
A House Can Have More Than One Story
We liked the yard, a good place for the children to play, with one exception--the little creek in the ravine. Somehow the kids got the idea that it was an alligator pond, so for obvious reasons, I let the myth remain. Meanwhile their dad acquired an old packing crate and put it in the gravenstein apple tree for a playhouse, which was fine except when the yellow jackets were buzzing around the fallen apples.
Mike's older brothers shared a room upstairs and Mark (second oldest) discovered that a door going from their room into the dark, shadowy attic could be left open, and it would make Ben call for mom, as he believed (like Pasqually in the Rose is a Rose comic strip) that there was a monster in there who would creep out and crawl under his bed.
We lived there for four years and even our youngest son had some interesting learning experiences. When Mike was about six months old I taught him how to back down the stairs so he wouldn't tumble down and break his head open. He was not afraid of heights. When he was a little older he climbed up to the top of a bookcase and had to be rescued by his father. Another time he was missing and we found him by noticing two big eyes laughing at us behind the fireplace screen. He was covered in black ashes! Still another time Mike climbed up into a large bathroom closet (with a latch on it) while a babysitter was occupied with the other children. He ate some baby aspirins. The babysitter's mom rushed him to Memorial Hospital where he had his stomach pumped. By the time we got home he was dreaming peacefully.
Another time, I was down in the basement preparing to wash some clothes. When I came back up into the kitchen I saw a mountain of open packages and my little boy with a big black ring around his mouth. I was shocked! He spilled corn flakes, opened Jello, Kool-Aid and puddings topped off by a package of black Rit dye. I still don;'t know how he climbed to the top shelf to get it. Hurriedly scanning the list of ingredients I found the dye to be non-poisonous but it was hardly edible either. I won't mention what the punishment was.
Somehow this child managed to grow up anyway. After we moved from 50th Avenue, he fell off a fence he was trying to walk on, and had to get stitches in his forehead. Another time he got his foot stuck in the fork of a small tree and I fed him marshmallows while we waited for rescue. He survived a tornado that blew through Peter S. Ogden school. He channeled his energy into Little League baseball (all-star) and first string halfback for the Columbia River Chieftans Still climbing, he and a friend ascended a water tower on Ludlam Hill to watch fireworks one Fourth of July, and did some community service for that trick. After high school graduation he went on a church mission for the LDS Church to Lima, Peru. He came back, got married to a gal from Kentucky whom he met while attending BYU. He got a Bachelor's degree from WSUV and a Master's from Murray State in Kentucky, which laid the groundwork for his becoming employed as a facilities manager for the LDS Church in Ohio. He recently moved to Arizona and began training to be a project manager over new temple construction for the Church. He and his wife have three sons and three daughters, who love their unconventional dad, who still does crazy things.
Monday, August 31, 2009
HARVEST DAYS
Today Merle made a visit to our garden plot and came back with 2 dozen "green" Walla Walla onions, at least 3 dozen carrots ranging in size from baby carrots to 5-inches long, and a small plastic bucket full of tomatoes, mostly cherry tomatoes. We already harvested a large bowl full of green beans. The wild rabbits ate our zucchini plants and beet tops. I guess we can share with our four-footed friends, but we draw the line at helping the winged and wormy kinds. We still have potatoes to harvest in a week or so. We are thankful for the occasional rain showers that supplemented our sporadic sprinklings.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
WHEAT AND TARES EXPLAINED
Today I accidentally knocked off a container of sewing pins. There could have been perhaps 200 all tolled. They fell all over the floor of my sewing room, like scattered Israel went throughout all nationsof the earth, though some stayed in groups. My husband had made me a 2-foot long dowel attached to a fairly strong magnet, so I reached for it and thought, 'no problem, a few passes should take care of the spilled pins.
That was very true. It pulled up strays and bunches alike, with one exception. Some pins must have made out of a metal that wasn't steel--probably aluminum. I didn't want to keep those pins. They just laid there on the floor, even though the magnet already had thirty or so pins sticking to it. I plucked off the steel pins and placed them back in their container.
This made me think.......What if righteous people had magnetic properties? The Lord could pass his big magnet over a group of people and immediately "lift up" the ones he wanted to gather. He had said, "my sheep know my voice." My steel pins knew their magnet too. The unrighteous people would be left behind like my unmagnetized pins still on the floor.
As I swept up the rebellious pins along with bits of thread and cast off clippings, I ran the magnet over the pile one more time. I brought up three strays that had been left behind, but there were still about twenty pins that refused to be caught up. Then my aluminum pins were in a pile to be swept into the trash. It was as easy as bundling tares to be burned. It could be just as easy for the Lord to separate his people at the time of his Second Coming! Will you know the Lord's voice when he calls?
That was very true. It pulled up strays and bunches alike, with one exception. Some pins must have made out of a metal that wasn't steel--probably aluminum. I didn't want to keep those pins. They just laid there on the floor, even though the magnet already had thirty or so pins sticking to it. I plucked off the steel pins and placed them back in their container.
This made me think.......What if righteous people had magnetic properties? The Lord could pass his big magnet over a group of people and immediately "lift up" the ones he wanted to gather. He had said, "my sheep know my voice." My steel pins knew their magnet too. The unrighteous people would be left behind like my unmagnetized pins still on the floor.
As I swept up the rebellious pins along with bits of thread and cast off clippings, I ran the magnet over the pile one more time. I brought up three strays that had been left behind, but there were still about twenty pins that refused to be caught up. Then my aluminum pins were in a pile to be swept into the trash. It was as easy as bundling tares to be burned. It could be just as easy for the Lord to separate his people at the time of his Second Coming! Will you know the Lord's voice when he calls?
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