MERRY CHRISTMAS!

This is NOT a "Scrooge Year" when all the preparations seem like chores rather than delights!  I have enjoyed baking in my tiny kitchen and sharing my cookies and cake with family and friends, Post Office customers and neighbors!  I have pulled from my recipe stash cookies with history: the Pecan Sandies, otherwise known as Mexican Wedding Cakes here in California, that recipe says Toni Vataliano on the top - she was my BYF leader long, long ago in a land far away!  The Date-Walnut-Oatmeal Cookies that says Dottie as the source; which one has been lost in the Sands of Time.  The Biscotti that Millie Wise learned to make in a class at an Italian Cooking School on one of her trips to Italy.  It calls for 2 tablespoons of Brandy; having none I hiked to a neighbor's and "borrowed" some in return for some of the final product!  Dates stuffed with a walnut like Mom used to make, but I dipped mine in melted white chocolate rather than the sugar she rolled hers in.

Best of all was the German Gingerbread from my Great, great, great Grandmother - she was my Grandfather's Grandmother - I hope I got the correct number of greats there!  The recipe calls for TWO cups of molasses and FILLS my mother's stainless steel lasagne pan.  I took it to a family supper and due to an excess of desserts it was barely touched!    Tom suggested taking it to church the next day and it was a huge success at coffee hour, even if the whipped cream ran out!!  That was the Joering side of the Warner family tree - my maternal grandfather, whose name is born by my brother Walter.

The packages are wrapped, Kathleen's is on its way to VA,  all is well and Christmas is just around the corner!  Don't have a chimney to hang the stockings, but not expecting any coal as our heat is propane!!
Stay warm, stay healthy, and be thankful for your many blessings.  THAT is the secret of a successful life!

Disconnect - POWER POLES and other thoughts

Driving down the hill to Sonora I passed the area where the dead trees are being processed, chipped for shipment to Ultra Power so they can become ELECTRICITY!  And across the highway dozens of new STEEL poles which PG&E will be using to replace the current wooden poles.  I understand that this is a regular maintenance project; wooden poles have a "life" just like everything else on this planet.  After a certain period they do rot, but is the life expectancy of a steel pole a lot more?   We have so MANY trees being cut thanks to the FIVE kinds of beetle attacking our forests partially due to the DROUGHT but also because we "forgot" that this area can only support so many trees.  The motto of the USForest Service used to be "land of many uses" but not any more, timber cutting is a thing of the past except NOW!  Of course, the USFS isn't in the tree cutting business, they are leaving that up to CalTrans and PG&E.  Will BLM and USFS be as diligent removing the dead pines, firs, and cedars?  Good question, we will have to watch and wait.

One of my Post Office customers said that he and his two neighbors just had to remove 225 trees from their five lots (1/4 acre) in Cold Springs, just down the highway.  PG&E has allowed all the private loggers to use their crane and operators when they are not actively using them!
It will be green again by the time our grand children are adults, but possibly we might have learned not to let every little tree grow to the 60 foot heights of these now dead trees.

Even CalTrans was experiencing a "disconnect" as they had scheduled a paving project for the same area of highway that is being logged - 150 feet from the center line!  Often the loggers must drag the fallen trees down the highway to where they are stacking them for removal.  It is very interesting watching them "dance to the music of chain saws" while stopping traffic totally if it is a logging situation, or escorting one line of vehicles if it is a repaving crew!

Mountain Humor is where you find it...

 

FALL is in the AIR!

The cedars just over the fence, which surrounds the swimming pool here at The Rivers Resort in Strawberry, are dropping their “needles” about a month early!  So two or three times a day, depending on the breezes, one of us grabs the sweeper basket and skims the surface free of debris,!  And Tom mans the blower every morning to clear the deck area of the pesky, prickly needles, or sprays as the cedar debris is called according to the biologist at the Summit Ranger Station.

The logging crew that is taking out the dead trees for Cal-Trans is also clearing the state right of way of any leaning or distressed trees, so that the road can be a “fire-break” should we be so unlucky as to have a wild fire in our area.  The State of California a decade ago decided that the trees along the State Highways should be left “untouched” and consequently there has been NO FIRE BREAK space along the highways.  It even makes it difficult for the fire equipment to get from one side of a fire to the other as it will burn right to the asphalt, and then melt THAT.  So besides the falling debris, we have the dust of the tree cutting.  We are thankful that Cal-Trans is using the opportunity to protect us, and our fire fighters.

The 78 - degree water felt heavenly this AM when the 8 AM temperature was 48 degrees! 

Water Aerobics for the 19^th year, with a 2 year hiatis while the pool was being renovated, it keeps us YOUNG and active.  We are due for another hot spell or two, probably when our local children start school on the 22^nd of August.  The Valley schools started on the 1^st of August!!  What happened to the lazy, crazy days of summer?!

When we were kids summer started on Memorial Day and went through Labor Day plus one day.  Wednesday after Labor Day was always the first day of school.   Of course, I could get pretty antsy waiting for that happy day.  I loved school!!  But I didn’t dare utter the word BORED or my mom would give me a list of things I could do with my time - good helpful things like fold the laundry, play with my siblings or read to them, wash the dishes (no dishwasher machines when I was a kid!) or weed the garden.  Picking the yellow fuzzy caterpillars off the green beans was my all time least favorite thing to do!  She armed us with a coffee can, with a bit of kerosene in the  bottom, and aimed us at the green beans!  Love green beans to this day, but would never, ever plant them due to the garden pests that they attract.  Fortunately, Mr. Birdseye discovered the advantages of fast freezing and we can get our “fresh frozen” green beans without the fuss of growing them and eliminating the pests!

With the four-year drought and the resulting brown forest, thanks to the invasion of five different kinds of beetles, we will not see green hills anytime soon.  So far, the oaks and the aspens appear to be unaffected, but there is certainly not a healthy market for all of these trees that are being cut by PG&E and Cal-Trans.  The private tree cutters are busy with the trees around houses, some of which require cranes to lift out the pieces as they are cut due to the proximity of structures.  I guess we were not very good stewards of the land entrusted to us.  We should have cut some of these trees while they were small enough to cut with a bucksaw!  Mother Nature is “clear cutting!”

INFLEXIBLE aren't we!

I often get a call asking for a certain cabin on a certain weekend, i.e. Unit #5 for Friday and Saturday July 16 and 17.  And when I explain that that particular cabin is rented by the week from mid June to mid September and give some other options, the person hangs up in frustration.

I was that frustrated person just this AM when I decided that "enough was enough" and drove the 30 miles down the mountain to arrive just at opening time at my friendly chiropractor to get my neck adjusted (lower back was hurting too!)  My hand had been "going to sleep" for no good reason several times a day for two weeks, and even with the exercise three or more times a week in our renovated and lovely 24 by 50 swimming pool out back, the sensation was not improving.   I teach the water aerobics class Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for an hour.  I also sort the mail in our little Post Office six days a week from 10:30 to 2:30.  Imagine my surprise and frustration when Kate, the always pleasant receptionist, couldn't possibly squeeze me in this morning, and neither could another office that I have used in the past!

So I took 2 anti-inflammatory pills, washed them down with McDonald's senior coffee and drove home!!  Laughing when I realized that I too was inflexible,  I want my adjustment NOW not next week.  My life is obviously TOO BUSY when I can't even make an appointment for a chiropractor OR for a haircut!!  My oh my, that mirror is sometimes an uncomfortable reflection!!  I guess that I may LOOK like a "time is no object" retired person but don't try to mess with my schedule!
 

TIME FLIES!

It is a good thing I was wordy in May because I suddenly realized that we are now mid-way through the summer here in the beautiful mile-high hamlet of Strawberry.  The pool is holding water, the lounges are "staked out" by the visiting guests early in the day.  I jokingly advised the young man putting beach towels out this morning that we changed the rules and what he was doing was no longer allowed - come and USE the lounges, don't just "reserve them!"  When I laughed he realized that I was joking with him, and he offered to finish sweeping the tree debris from the deck!   I never refuse an offer of HELP!!  You all better remember that - don't say it if you don't mean it!!

Pinecrest Lake has been discovered by the hordes from the VALLEY!  During the drought years it and Lake Tulloch were the only water accessible and each year more folks have driven up for the day.  The Sunday of July 3rd was the highest use EVER - an estimated 30,000 people!!  The cars were parked on both sides of all the roads in Pinecrest and out on the Highway!  That is a one mile WALK to get to the water - which was still high in the trees since we had a week of rain/hail/snow just the week before Memorial Day!!  I didn't drive over to check but they had to be standing shoulder to shoulder and even in the water in order for that many people to be at Pinecrest Lake.  Not like the "olden days" when this corner of California was an undiscovered paradise!!  I even have a US map that has NO HIGHWAY 108 above Sonora.  I guess there must be newer maps that DO SHOW our highway!!

We get several folks a day who have no cellphone signals to guide them, and often have NO IDEA the name on the cabin or even the road that it is on, except "saved in the cloud" which of course they cannot access without a signal.  You have to be a mystery buff to answer the questions posed by "lost tourists" in our corner of civilization.  At least the Sonora Pass is open so we don't get the poor foreign tourists who attempt a crossing and ignored the three signs between Hiway 99, the last freeway, and Strawberry.  THREE SIGNS saying Sonora Pass, Hiway 108 closed 6 miles above Strawberry!!  I often get the question "Which freeway exit do I take?"  Oh, so glad that the nearest freeway is nearly two hours west of us!!

Our eldest son recently thanked us for moving the family out of San Jose when he had to make a day trip there for a doctor appointment for his wife.  The two youngest grandchildren asked if they could stay with grandma as they really didn't look forward to a day in the car - BORING!!  It isn't often that you can be part of a 10% INCREASE in the school population at Pinecrest Elementary School, and that is what our kids were back in 1979 when we left San Jose to purchase the Strawberry Inn.

It seems like someone else's life, a story I read, a dream / nightmare I had...time flies!  ENJOY IT!! 


 

PET PEEVES

I was given the greeting “Have a good one!” again today.  My husband got all perturbed just the other day and asked “a good WHAT?”   No one ever replies to that inquiry!  They have no idea WHAT a good one IS!   Whatever happened to “Have a nice day!”   “Come again soon”  “Thank you!” even?  The English language is rich with alternatives to “Have a good one!”

Laziness is the problem, and slang that masquerades as acceptable vernacular.  Don’t say exactly the same “canned” reply to every customer; it cheapens your relationships.  Customers like to be greeted sincerely and wished a good day, a good trip, a day full of glad tidings, a sincere “THANK YOU, come again!”

Even in our homes we just assume that our family knows they are loved whether we say the words or not.  I read a wee story in email yesterday – a middle aged man bent over and kissed his dying father on the forehead and realized that he had not done that since he was a child himself.  Something so simple as kissing those we love shouldn’t be saved for the deathbed!

My sweet husband of 55 years thanks me after every meal, even the breakfast cereal he cooks for himself in the microwave!  I guess I do the shopping, and pour the “cactus juice” in the glasses, but he brews the coffee and clears the dirty dishes.   So much to be thankful for; we often take blessings for granted.

MEMORIES

I lost a friend last month, a friend for 50 plus years!  Her Memorial Party was last Saturday.  One of her sons made a comment that brought back MANY memories. “Mom always told us that if anything happened to them, Aunt Martha and Uncle Tom would raise us.”   That of course was fine with their boys, as they knew we had two boys the same age!  We heard of many adventures; the statute of limitations had expired long ago, and grounding nearly 50 year-old sons was no longer an option.

Margrit was born in Germany eight years before I was born in Nebraska, but her parents and grandparents had immigrated to Brazil prior to WWII so she was raised in San Paulo with servants - faithful family “retainers” as she always thought of them.  I remember her sending gifts for all occasions until the last of them finally died.  She had an aunt from Brazil, who visited them annually, as did her husband’s parents from Denmark.  The parents came for the winter once the Skovs bought the house in Mission Viejo with four bedrooms, three baths and a large office for her husband, the chemical engineer.  Their purchase of the home in Mission Viejo was due to one son’s penchant for swimming and she organized many a swim tournament.  That son was also a lifeguard at the beach for YEARS and now teaches school while he and his wife raise their two, now teenage, children.

Being a widow for several years, selling the home of 40 years, remodeling two kitchens, and parting with her “family retainers” - housekeeper and gardener - who moved out of the Orange County area about the time she moved to a gated community, constituted a LOT of change in a short time.  Her apartment was on the ground floor and she seemed to make friends fairly soon.  Making new friends was a bit easier with a dog to walk several times a day.  Luna, the golden retriever, was such a gentle soul and graciously provided a softer landing on Margrit’s last FALL than the floor would have.  The bruises on her face in her son’s “took Mom to lunch” post spoke volumes about my friend’s “aging in place.”   The handyman/gardener made the long drive to take the antique carpet, vacuum it really well, and roll it for storage under the desk in her office where she wouldn’t trip over it again.

The eldest son and his wife also live nearby but he travels each week for his work with a banking enterprise so Saturday was the day he visited his mom to fuss at her, I think that his dad - on his death bed - put him “in charge of MOM” since the other son had a growing family!!  The sons are as different as their parents were!!  Margrit was warm and very hospitable and her husband, a scientist, was comfortable in one-to-one conversations.  But he went out of his way to be the genteel host when his wife wanted a party with lots of folks to feed!  Not unusual I am sure as most good marriages are opposites; I know that we are!

Margrit spoke seven languages and at one point she served as an interpreter at the Orange County Courts.  Speaking only one language I marveled that she chose me as a friend exchanging letters from wherever they moved, to wherever we moved.  She always planned to move closer to us, since she considered me her little sister and blessed me with clothes, Avon cosmetics (she was a dealer!) or yarn projects whenever we visited.  When I was in Real Estate for ten years I sent countless fliers for land to build a single story house on, with room for a garden.

I finally realized that, like my mother, she would not move until forced to and by then her sons would decide how far and when.  She did fool them though by finding a Realtor in her area who helped her find the gated community and a contractor to upgrade the kitchen first in the house she was selling and then in the apartment where she settled next.  She definitely had the German attitude – “Don’t tell me what to do, I can still be in charge of my life!”   The last time I spoke with her on the phone, our latest form of communication since her handwriting had become difficult – but she could still knit / crochet up a storm – she mentioned that she had several thousand dollars “hidden away” that her sons didn’t even know about.  Years of practice living in Brazil where the government liked to confiscate every spare penny they could get their hands on whether by inflation or taxes, not to mention thieves/bribes.

Raised Catholic in the Southern Hemisphere, married to a DANE whom she loved dearly, her religious heritage was very different from mine, but in her later days, after her husband died she attended a church for the warm welcome, food help, and the friendship of the knitting circle ladies.  She knew her ultimate destination and had a Do NOT Recessitate Order at the local hospital, so when she was taken in with respiratory failure the sons were forced after several days to “pull the plug” on the respirator.   They called me, took her mask off so she could hear me say “GOODBYE old friend.”   Then she proceeded to enjoy the attention of her family and friends for several hours while struggling to breath.  Tough old bird, my friend Margrit!  I will miss her.  See you in heaven!

Epiphany at 4 AM

Practice makes perfect is an oft-repeated phrase, but most music teachers will add – only if you practice perfectly.   I have practiced more in the past four months than I have in YEARS!!  I took on a task that no one else wanted – all of our previous accompanists had refused the Monday afternoon job and what Chorus can function without an accompanist?  So I offered; they accepted!

One introduction – the accompanist’s solo part at the beginning of the song - had me stumped; it sounded great when I practiced at home and was always ragged when played on Monday with the director and the Chorus.  I had even penciled “beats in 2” at the beginning since the time signature was 4/4.   Early this morning I woke up “counting 1-2-3-4” as I mentally rehearsed that introduction and instantly realized the “disconnect” between my practicing and my Monday afternoon attempts!  While I was still playing the introduction, the chorus began singing – I should have realized weeks ago what the problem was!

My husband, Tom, was a computer guru all of his working life and I remember him coming home more than once frustrated with a problem on a computer system.  He would say, “If I can just get it to fail, I could fix it!”   So he would tease the system into failure mode so he could SEE what the problem was and then he could fix it!  In my sleep I was able to tease myself into failure mode and NOW I can fix my problem.  It wasn’t that I wasn’t counting, I was just counting WRONG!

compassion

I was just made aware of a helpful website - www.theconversationproject.org.

It addresses a subject that seems as verboten as the religion and politics at the dinner table!!  This is a subject that we must all address at some point, either as the decision maker upon the death of a loved one, or as a human getting ready to exit this physical realm.  Yet it is clear that NO ONE wants to talk about the inevitablility of death.  We are all dying from the moment we are born - cells die, new cells form; friends die, new friendships are made;  our bodies die, our spirits continue on into eternity.

Have compassion for those left behind and TALK about your wishes for the end of your life - organ donation, burial or cremation, somber ceremony or a PARTY.  How are they to know if you don't plan ahead and especially WRITE IT DOWN.  Insurance policies, bank accounts, records, keys to the safe deposit box are all really important items after you are no longer there to tell them.  Update the information every couple of years and be sure the file is front and center in your file cabinet.  

I had a friend who disclosed that she had quite a lot of money stashed away in an account that her sons knew nothing about.  She died;  I disclosed the conversation to the sons.  Perhaps that is why she told me, she knew that I would when the time came.   My dad died quite a number of years ago but he too entrusted me with some "helpful" information.  He wanted to "be cremated and carried in the trunk so he wouldn't miss any vacations!!"  When the TIME CAME I disclosed that to my mom and sister and warned them that he had said he would "haunt them" if they spent thousands of dollars at the mortuary.  (Our family doesn't believe in "ghosts" but they heard what Dad was joking about.)  

This subject does not have to be somber; have fun, make jokes just as you would about any family business matter, any subject.  But do have the conversation.  Forms are available for Power of Attorney for Health Care, a Do Not Rescusitate Order, organ donation, etc.  FILL THEM OUT and put in that "READ FIRST" folder! 

Another site is www.threewishes.org or ask at your local hospital and GIVE THEM a copy of the DNR order - this does have to be notorized or signed with witnesses.  Check with your state for that requirement.

Interesting Interactions

My Mother always admonished us that Religion and Politics were not appropriate subjects at the dinner table, especially when entertaining guests.  NOW we have Facebook where our friends and family entertain us with “likes” and comments, and where we can embarrass ourselves with the click of a mouse / enter key.   It is amazing how many uplifting “Good Morning” or “Good Night” photos arrive, recipes that my diet would love, cute yard ornaments and recycling projects and I do enjoy them all.  But comments on my postings of a political nature have yielded some thoughtful moments.

The Primary Elections this Spring seem to divide more than unite us.  There are only two “civil” candidates who refrain from personal attacks and they get so much less coverage I am afraid that come January of 2017 we will get “what we deserve” and not God’s best for our nation as those “civil” candidates are not attracting the money for a winning campaign, nor has the press or media been kind to them.  It seems that flaming rhetoric “sells papers” and “gets ratings.”  The majority feels that they have no power in our society; which is frustrating! So many “squeaky wheels” get their way, like spoiled children, with not a thought for the good of the “majority” or even the safety of the “majority!”

One of my nephews mentioned on one of my posts that he isn’t on either side of the fence – he broke it down.  My comment was that I had several “orthodox Christian” friends who were also “social liberals” and I still consider them both friends and Christians.  I have several siblings and in-laws who cannot discuss politics with their spouse / MOST of their children because they have the “don’t disturb me with facts, I have my mind made up” attitudes.  Civility and discussion should continue in our society or we become anarchists.

I saw a ruler – a devise for measuring - once that went from 100% government to 0% government, from Fascism, the New Deal, the Great Society, to Vigilantes, PETA and the Mafia, from Tyranny to Anarchy with the Constitution as the center.  The way society engages with those with whom they differ determines how quickly “the Pendulum” swings from one extreme to the other!  And the PENDULUM will always swing; the only “good thing” is that for each extreme we get two middles! 

“We hold these truths to be self-evident that all humans are created equal and endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”  Declaration of Independence - 1776   HAPPINESS is not guaranteed, just your pursuit thereof!!

To this end the Constitution was hammered out a short eleven years later: “ to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity”… a separation of powers, so tyranny could NOT intrude on this experiment of nation-building.  They had had a KING, they wanted to make sure that we were NOT burdened with another!

I saw a forwarded post about a man in FL who “adopted a High School” with an abysmal graduation rate and promised a college scholarship to EVERY graduate of that school.  The graduation rate spiked because having SOMEONE who had faith in each student’s ability to succeed made all the difference.  Meanwhile, someone else had posted a story about Ivy League Colleges giving scholarships to “disadvantaged students” which reminded me of the Guidance Counselors at MY High School in an under-privileged area of DENVER CO.  They too tried to encourage mediocre students and get them to try for scholarships.

Those scholarships were made available by people, people with a heart for education, out of their own pockets, or an inheritance,  – even the Ivy League Colleges get the money from somewhere – just like the man in FL.  Most of the scholarships, then and now, were not even applied for.  The Federal Government stepped in with Pell Grants, and Financial Aid – which must be repaid!  So I am sure that most of the scholarships available are still sitting there as the “requirements” don’t meet the appetites of the students who still need the money but prefer to get it from the “deep pockets” of the government.  NEWS FLASH – the government is all of US, or at least those of us who PAY taxes, including businesses and corporations.

There was also a post this morning, supposedly the parting words of Steve Jobs, wishing that he had not made MONEY his goal, but LOVE.  Love your family, love your wife, love LIFE because while money pays for the hospital bed and the ventilator, when LIFE is gone it doesn’t matter how much money you have made in your career.  Makes you wonder if he left some of his money for scholarships for students wishing to invent the NEXT electronic “toy” or the cure for the disease that he succumbed to despite his money.

We all make choices in life whether Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, or the man in FL who adopted a WHOLE High School.  So think before you vote, do some research and don’t believe everything you see on TV or read in the newspaper.  Good advice for ALL of US, myself included!  And send some money to the most “civil” of the candidates and let’s restore respect to the election process.

A LOVE Story for you all

“Mom’s Gone Missing!”

“JR, your mom is missing and I can’t find her!”  A feeble voice on the phone said in a tone nearing panic.

“Yes, Dad, I hear you are worried about Mom.  When did you see her last?”  JR responded calmly, even as his list of appointments sat on his desk telling him he had not one minute to spare today.

“Just this morning at breakfast!  Please come out and help me find her!”

“Dad, maybe she ran an errand, is her car there, her purse?  Have you tried calling her?” said the harried son to his dad who hadn’t made a phone call in months, until NOW.

“ No, her purse is here, the car is here.  She would have taken me on any errand, she knows I like to take drives with her.” The old man wheezed.

“OK Dad, it seems you have covered all the bases, I will stop and pick up Crissy if she has time.  ‘Two heads are better than one’ as Mom would say.  We will find her together!”

JRs given name was Horace - after his father - but when he outgrew the “big Horace, little Horace” period of his life he just took JR as his name.  He even had it changed officially before he opened his insurance office.

JR called his sister Crissy at her Florist Shop – Crissy’s Floral Creations – and fortunately she had her assistant in to work this morning to cover the shop and with no pressing orders to fill she could go with her brother to “answer the call for help!” 

The trip to “the ranch” didn’t take long; it was only ten miles out of town.  Mom and Dad had retired there twenty years ago and seemed to enjoy the quiet, slower pace.  For a time they had the usual “stock” – some chickens, a pony for the grandkids to ride, a calf, and a piglet to fatten for the freezer, and a large garden, which they tended together.  However, lately it seemed that tending themselves took most of their energy what with Doctors’ appointments and just the day-to-day jobs on “the spread!”

Dad was waiting on the porch in his rumpled sweats and a stained T-shirt, definitely not ready for a “trip to town!”   “I have searched everywhere and I just can’t find her!”  he stammered.

“OK Dad, let us get a look at the house first and see if we can find any clues as to when, where, and how she managed to ‘disappear.’”  JR consoled his father.

Crissy had headed for the kitchen where several bowls, which once held oatmeal, decorated the table and the counter top.  “When did you say that you saw Mom last?” she asked.

“Just this morning, we read the devotional book after breakfast like we always do.  I remember it was the story of the Lost Sheep, and now she is lost!  He answered as the tears puddled in his eyes.

Crissy looked at the booklet on the table, her Dad’s two-day beard, and realized that her Mom had been missing for two days according to the date of the Lost Sheep piece in the well-used booklet.  “Mom would never have left the dishes to crust up, we both know that, and the story Dad is talking about was two days ago!” she whispered to her brother.

“We have to find her quickly, you check the office and I will check the bedroom.  See if you see anything that would suggest where she could have gone!”

Crissy had just realized that the bed was unmade, the bathroom a mess and knew that something had happened to her tough, resilient mom when JR called from the spare bedroom used as an office.

“Look at this audit letter from the IRS, they want to see the records for THREE YEARS ago.  Where on earth would those be filed?”  he asked his sister as she ran in from the main bedroom.  “Would they be in the attic?”  he opined as he ran to the hall where the drop-down ladder beckoned from the ceiling.

“Wouldn’t Dad have heard her calling if she was locked in the attic?”  Crissy asked, then remembered seeing Dad’s hearing aids on the dresser in the bedroom.  They were all so used to him NOT WEARING them that they just naturally had been hollering in order to communicate with the frail old man.  “NO, I remember Mom saying last year that she had to move the records from the attic as the bats had decided to live there!”

“Well, why didn’t she say something to me, I would have sent my pest man out to chase them out and patch the hole they used for access!”  JR fumed.   His parents were so dammed independent he was beyond worrying about them and only came when a desperate call came, like this morning!!  “So where would she have moved them, I will check the garage, you check the sheds, and the yard for holes; but watch out for snakes, I remember how frightened you are of those lowly critters!” He teased.

JRs perusal of the garage made him sad – NO TOOLS!   He remembered Mom telling him how his dad had no need for them and she was afraid that he would decide to take a power saw to a wall to cut a new doorway or window, hit an electrical wire and kill himself.  So instead he is dying a day at a time…

Enough of that, JR thought, we have to find Mom, no time to reflect on the age-old question of “old age!”

Crissy was at his side as he exited the garage with a puzzled look on her face.  “The only place I haven’t checked is that storage container out back, checked the old chicken house, the shed they used for a “barn” and the shed by the garden.”

“I had forgotten about that container, they got that twenty years ago for the STUFF that wouldn’t fit in this “smaller house.”  Stuff they couldn’t bear to part with.  Collections of this that and the other, souvenirs of their travels, family heirlooms that we are supposed to treasure when they pass on!”  JR mused.  “Would the records of the sale of that 30 acres next door to the neighbor be out there?  It is a water-tight container! OR was twenty years ago, I helped Dad paint the roof with that special waterproofing paint!” JR said as they trotted to the container out back.  They weren’t even aware that their Dad was shuffling behind them.

“I am surprised that Mom can even OPEN this thing!” Crissy said as her brother fussed with the two heavy locking bars and creaked the door open.

“I knew you would find me!” exclaimed their mother, lying on the floor in a heap of fabric.  “It was cold and dark after the flashlight died, but God was with me.  And I didn’t die of the heat OR the cold thanks to this fabric I was saving for quilts for my great grandchildren!”

“There are my TOOLS,” exclaimed Horace, when he arrived on the scene, totally ignoring the body that they had all been searching for!  “I have to go and tell Sylvia, she said that they were stolen from the garage.  Sylvia, Sylvia, my tools weren’t stolen, I just forgot where I put them!”  he shouted as he shuffled away!”

His two adult children looked totally lost as they helped their mother to her feet and half carried her into the kitchen, where she guzzled a glass of water.  “Oh my, how long was I out there? This house is a mess!”

Horace walked in just then and informed them all, “It was about time that you came to work!”  and huffed back to the living room where the TV was blaring!

Puzzlement passed from brother to sister but they didn’t say a word waiting for an explanation from Sylvia, their mother.

“I am so sorry that you had to find us in this way, but I guess that I should have ‘fessed up about your dad’s condition sooner.  I have been covering for him, cleaning for him, doing anything that needed doing about the place for a long time now.  As far as he knows, or admits, I am the “cleaning lady.”

“He doesn’t even know you are Sylvia?”  JR acknowledged.

“Remember that king-sized bed that he insisted on buying several years ago?   The bed that “ate the bedroom!”  That was the last decision he made until yesterday when he decided that someone had tried to break into the storage shed and he had to walk out and close it!”  Sylvia explained.  “I tried to holler at him, even knocked on the door after he locked it!  He couldn’t hear me or maybe he was so confused he didn’t understand what he was hearing!” 

“Doesn’t it get lonely out here with just the two of you and him “not all here!?”  asked Crissy.

“Yes, and No.  You know he does find “his Crissy” every night in that king-sized bed, and it is better than being a widow in some ways.  Maybe we need to discuss this situation after I get some food, and clean up this mess!  Sylvia said, taking charge again!  “Oh, and thanks for coming to our aid!” she said as she hugged her two children and escorted them to the door.

LOST and FOUND

LOST and FOUND

With 37 years in the industry under my belt, the items lost while visiting a resort in the Sierras still boggle my mind!  The phone call was from a panic-stricken guest who had LOST one of her expensive earrings.  She had put them on to go to dinner and her next call, at my suggestion after crawling on my hands and knees all over the carpeted floor of the bedrooms and living room of the cabin to no avail, was to the restaurant to see if someone had found it and turned it in.  This was one of a pair of $4,000 rocks in silver wire fasteners.  I also suggested that she not tell her insurance company that she had taken such expensive earrings to the mountains to play in the snow!  Oh, she wasn’t even planning to tell the insurance company ANYTHING!

Several hours later, I received another call.  The restaurant had offered to open their vacuum bags and see if they could find the errant earring, but she caught them before they had done that!   Her husband decided to empty his duffle bag of dirty clothes and there was the missing “rock” with silver wires intact.  The very special, very expensive earring was in with her husband’s dirty underwear!

We seem to acquire 5 or 6 pillows every summer, despite the fact that bedding is provided in all of our cabins.  I do know about traveling with your favorite pillow, we do!  But never calling to have the fancy pillow slip mailed back, I assume that it matches the sheets and possibly the comforter as well?!  How do you “forget” a pillow with a pink flowered pillow slip, or THREE king-sized “My Pillows” – like advertised on TV – with shiny satin pillow slips?!  You would think that they would be noticeable!

One guest “forgot” her unloaded gun, in its case, in the nightstand drawer.  It was residing in my safe for at least six months before they made the drive up to retrieve it.  Then there was the family who left a unique bread-slicing knife, which I had to find in the cabin and package securely to mail to them, only to have it sent back – wrong knife!  She drew a rough sketch, which she sent with the returning bread knife and sure enough it was also in this well-stocked kitchen drawer!  She did send the postage and her thanks!

One family routinely forgets several things when they leave after a week’s stay, “just hold them until we come next year!”  A guest called to have me secure the nail polish, remover, cuticle remover, etc. that she left in a dresser drawer.  She didn’t want a child to find it with disastrous results.  A fisherman forgot his brand new - box never opened - vacuum sealer.  I guess he planned on catching so many fish he would have to store them in the freezer and not just eat them or give them away!!  He too said, “I will be back in a couple of weeks, just put it back in the cabin when I arrive next!”

I let a repairman into the furnace area beneath one of our cabins and commented about the collection of JUNK, but also TWO brand-new doors waiting to be installed.  The repairman said,  “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure!”  Very fitting remark!  We treasure our mountain paradise and are thrilled when we can share it with so many great families seeking an escape from their frantic lives down in the flat lands.