Tearing Down Memories

Last week Kory tore down the summer kitchen that sat between our house and the hillside facing the view. It was an eyesore, but I grieved its loss nonetheless. It had some weird special meaning for me that is now gone.



That summer kitchen was built by the original builder of our house, Doc Owens. He learned how to be a carpenter in the 1930s so his style basically froze there. The summer kitchen had a smoker, a sink and the well. The well has long been abandoned since city water became available at the bottom of our hill, and I’m thankful for that. I’m not sure what the water quality would be around here with all the chemicals that get sprayed on the fields. But the well is a practical thing for watering the yard in the summertime, so Kory will be installing another pump soon.


As far as I know, Doc Owens was the only one to enjoy the summer kitchen as it was designed. The second owners of the house, Bill and Julie Curry, just used it for miscellaneous wood storage – mostly firewood. It fell into disrepair over the years and the summer kitchen wasn’t in good shape when we bought the house in 1997. But strangely enough, my sentiments for our summer kitchen revolve around the roof.


Bill Curry died in the late 1980s and all maintenance on this house pretty much came to a screeching halt. When I rented the upstairs apartment from Julie Curry from 1989-91, even the roof of the house leaked. The summer kitchen had bigger problems. Kory did a few home repairs for Julie while we were dating, but after I moved out, there literally was no man around the house and time took its toll. Because Julie wanted to keep the wood dry for her woodstove, at some point after I married Kory and moved out, she started asking around for a handy-man to come to her rescue and repair the roof of the summer kitchen. Little did she know, the man she found to do the repairs was my father!



My dad had a friend that lived in Conway that he was doing some carpentry work for over there. Julie heard about “a guy out in Conway” that did side-jobs and gave him a call. When my dad came out to do the work for her, he told her that his daughter had lived in this area at one time, but he never knew exactly where. When Julie asked who his daughter was, they both got a pretty good laugh over the irony of it all. My dad soon got a little “sweet” on Julie and started hanging around looking for more chores to do for her. She enjoyed his company, and his stories right up until the time he was killed.


When we bought this house, the roof on that summer kitchen always made me smile, just thinking about my dad crawling around on top of it, pounding nails. It was something tangible to remind me of him every day and even though I didn’t like how the summer kitchen blocked so much of our view of the Skagit Valley, I liked that roof and the memories of my dad that went with it. Now it’s gone. We probably won’t rebuild it, but maybe within the walls of the foundation that still remain, we’ll do something that honors my dad. Short of putting in a moonshine still, I’m not sure what that would be, but I’ll think of something.

A Peaceful Week

It's been fairly peaceful in our house this week. Kaleb moved upstairs and has been in charge of himself. He’s been wanting to do this since we lived in Norway. He was thinking of our home one day, appreciating all it’s uniqueness, and asked if after we moved back home, sometime he could live in the apartment upstairs and be in charge of himself. Being the homeschool family we are, I thought it would be a great learning opportunity for him, so I agreed. But the more he talked about it, I realized he just wanted to have unlimited electronics time, and that his entire week would be spent sitting in front of his Nintendo, a computer, or the Wii. I’ve been dragging my feet on keeping that commitment ever since. But finally, a few weeks ago, in the heat of us yelling at each other for something or another, he said all he’s ever wanted was to just be in charge of himself for one day. I told him he could be in charge of himself for an entire week, if he stayed off the electronics. He agreed. So all week he’s kept his own schedule, fixed his own food, made all his own decisions. I told him I’d drive him to his weekly commitments for no charge, but he’d have to pay me taxi fare if he wanted to go anywhere else. I offered to give him work to earn money if he needed it. He didn’t take me up on either of those offers. He basically sat around all week and read books. He was fairly bored by the end of the first day, but he wasn’t about to halt his freedom.



This morning I pointed out a few things that made me think I wouldn’t do this little experiment again anytime soon. He went to bed after midnight every night, and slept in every day. He didn’t shower or take a bath, he often didn’t brush his teeth. He only ate pretzels and bagels for most of the week when his refrigerator was full of fruits and veggies and microwaveable healthy dinner options he could easily fix himself. He chose to do basically no school work and rarely practiced the piano. I offered to be available to help him on any and all school work, but he didn’t take me up on that offer either. He didn’t do any of his chores and he stayed in the house even on sunny days – not getting any exercise whatsoever. I didn’t yell at him or tell him to do anything at all. Earlier in the week as Kory and I were eating dinner he asked if he could pay a “restaurant fee” to eat some of what we had, but I gave him a few bites for free just because he sounded so pathetic. Later in the week he appreciated the invitation to dinner when we had company over.


I’m not sure what he learned in all that process, but I know I loved not having to get after him all the time about different things. This morning I asked him if he had done anything during the week that he shouldn’t have, and he confessed to getting on my computer at night a few times, and also to playing his Nintendo once for a few hours. I thanked him for his honesty and I know he appreciated coming clean without having any negative consequences. I asked him if he were me, if I should trust him again to have a week by himself and he said, “No.” So perhaps that was the lesson. Who knows. At least now it’s off my to-do list.


Since I’ve been free from dealing with Kaleb this week, I’ve been a little extra social and had friends over, and gone over to friends for visits. It’s actually been quite nice. Wednesday I even officiated an internment for the ashes of my step-mom’s sister. The family came up here to put her ashes in the columbarium at Pleasant Ridge Cemetery and I orchestrated and executed the event – including the luncheon afterwards. It was all well done, if I do say so myself. Kory even took the day off from grouting the porch tiles to attend. (He’s nearly done now, woo hoo!)


Kaleb and I spent all day today taking a training class for Summit Assistance Dogs so we qualify to be short term foster homes to dogs in their training program. We’ll see how that goes, but already I have my doubts that Kaleb will be able to keep from ruining whatever training they have already gone through, as they have very high standards and Kaleb just wants to love on dogs uncontrollably, but I’m willing to give it a try.


Last night we had a family outing with some friends to go see Tim Hawkins, a Christian comedian, in concert down in Kent. What a hoot that guy is and it was so good to laugh and laugh and laugh. The photo today is of one of the neighborhood chickadees who is so well trained by our neighbor that it eats from anyone’s hand. There are about four of them that do this in the woods near our house. It’s so cool to connect with nature like that. Now if I could just get Kory and Kaleb to eat out of the palm of my hand, I probably wouldn’t need to go see a comedian in order to have such a good laugh.

UPDATE:

A few people have asked if my feature column "Nuggets From Norway" in the LaConner Weekly News was on-line.  Unfortunately, it is not, so I've set up a new blog site and each week I'll update it with the latest column.  It's mostly excerpts from my Postcards From The Edge of Norway blog, but I've modified them slightly.  I'm also adding new photos each week of Norway.
www.nuggetsfromnorway.blogspot.com

Tulip Season

It’s soon tulip/tourist season in the Skagit Valley. As a friend once said, “If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?” He wasn’t referring to the tulips, he was referring to the hoards of looky-loos that come to see them. Years ago another friend made a bumper sticker with an image of upside down tulips that says, “Nuke the tulips.” Needless to say, the tulips aren’t so popular with all the locals around here. I must admit, I have mixed feelings myself.



On one hand, I love that we sit up on Pleasant Ridge overlooking the tulip fields. Each and every day we get to see the farmland quilt laid out before us change it’s pattern with shifting shadows and vibrant spots of color coming and going throughout the year. Our view can’t be beat. But that’s also the problem. Because we live so close to all the “action” we are nearly prisoners in our own home for several weeks each spring as the roads in front of our house get jammed with all the visitors that flock to this area to take a look at those colors and snap a few photos. I can’t blame them. It is breathtakingly beautiful, and I have several hundred photos myself, to prove it.


But on the other hand, the tourists pay so much attention to the tulip fields, they fail to notice the traffic signs. There are several places where the speed limit goes from 35 to 50, but no one ever sees the 50 and they just mozey on down the road at 35 (or less) looking for the next place to pull over and take photos. And with so many other cars on the road, it’s impossible to pass them. Normally I can get into town in under 15 minutes, but during tulip season, I don’t even try unless it’s early morning or after dark. The back ups at intersections can take hours.


The other big issue I have with the tourists is that many of them just pull half-way over onto the shoulder of the road and jump out to take photos – not caring a bit that their car is sticking out into the street, which makes it impossible to pass if other cars are approaching. The inconsideration gets on my nerves after a while. That part of the tourist season has already gotten a jump start this year as the daffodil fields are in full bloom and we've had so many blue sky days to make the perfect backdrop for photos. There are often a string of cars just down the street from our house that I have to pass (or wait to pass until it’s clear) on every trip into town. Apparently there are many people who come here who can’t read English because they park right below the signs that say, “No stopping or parking at any time.” It’s the same problem on Fir Island this time of year – only people pull over to see the flocks of snow geese, trumpeter swans or bald eagles.


This is where I have the mixed feelings because sometimes I can’t help but stop and take a photo myself. We do live in an amazingly beautiful place, but I at least respect the signs and people’s private property.


We usually have to be prepared for the month of April. We stock up on food to minimize the trips we must take into town. When we must go into town while the sun is still up, we take the long way along the river, just so the car stays in motion, as I have very little patience for being still while in a vehicle. I prepare mentally to deal with people who I often feel have no right to be on the road in front of me, and I have much repentance to do once I’m home for the number of times I’ve lost my temper.


But … it only happens once a year and it’s good for the local economy. I’d rather have tourists and tulips than housing developments and rush traffic. And now that the tulips are soon upon us, I’ll have to perfect my drive-by shooting skills – that’s where I roll down the window and point the camera and SHOOT, without even taking my foot off the accelerator. I’ve taken some amazing photos that way. I just wish others would do the same.

Emergency Kit

I’ve had it on my to-do list for several years now to assemble an emergency kit “just in case.” After the latest string of earthquakes around the world, it finally prompted me to act on that desire. I’m proud to say I now have one kit outside the house and one inside, just to cover all bases. I tried to imagine the different emergencies that could befall us and decided worst case scenario would be the house burning down in the middle of the night, so I made sure to include a set of clothes for each of us. Lord knows we’ll always need clean underwear.


Just like fire insurance (something we have we are pretty sure we won’t ever need), my little emergency kits now gives me some peace of mind, knowing that if the occasion arises, I’m prepared. That uneasy feeling in the back of my mind that says “what if” has now left the building, literally.

In telling a few friends about this monumental task I’ve finally completed, I’ve been surprised by how many people have told me they feel some kind of impending doom really is coming down the line, so they thought it wise we all be prepared for some disaster. I don’t have a year’s worth of food and water like my Mormon friends, but I have enough for a few days. But then I wonder, if the doom is something horrible like a nuclear bomb, would I really want to keep on living anyway knowing the months and years to follow might be even worse? We live in interesting times.

Sometimes I even question the logic behind my preserving so many of Kaleb’s childhood memories – that perhaps it’s all for naught. When I started journaling his life (16 books ago) I thought maybe he wouldn’t be as interested in all the journals, scrapbooks and photo albums as perhaps his wife or children would be, but often I wonder if those days will ever even arrive. But then I realize how fast time goes by, and I might be a grandmother before I know it. Lord help me – I’m getting old!

I feel pretty blessed to be over 50 without a single health issue to complain about. Not that I’m super healthy, but I don’t take any medication or have any “condition” (other than some unwanted fat attached to various parts of my body). I’m as medically uninteresting as it gets. That suits me just fine. I know it’s probably not the norm. Just thinking about my closest circle of friends I can rattle off one heck of a list of medical challenges they are facing right now. To be free from that kind of worry and/or pain is something I thank God for each and every day. I’d rather be poor and in good health than rich, with a health concern, that's for sure.

I don’t know what the future holds but, as they say, I know who holds the future. I can’t borrow trouble worrying about tomorrow because then I would rob today of some level of joy. Sometimes I wonder if I even have enough joy to get me through the day, as I often complain a bit too much about life in general. I focus too much on the negative, even for my own liking.

I made a comment to a friend recently that my life seems a little on the “boring” side these days and she responded with an explosion of enthusiasm, “Boring! Your life is not boring! If you have grass growing out in your yard, how can it be boring? Just think about the miracle of each blade. And don’t you think it’s fascinating when the steam from the tea kettle comes swirling out of the spout every morning? How can life be boring when you have so many miracles around you every day?!”

I guess that’s why she’s an artist and I’m a list maker. To me, it was a genuine miracle that I could actually scratch that emergency kit off my to-do list. I think I'm ready for what the future holds now and that brings me joy for this day, anyway.  How boring is that?

Taming the Lion

I’ve been neglecting my blog because that quote “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all,” has been rattling around in my brain. I’ve struggled with Kaleb so much these last few weeks that I didn’t want to write down how I was feeling so I would never remember these days again. He’s been pushing the limits. Even with a “personal life coach” meeting once a week, he continued to lie to me, so my patience ran thin and I yelled at him more than I’d like to admit. I was sure we were over the worst of it a few weeks back, but I was wrong. It’s been pretty calm now for a few days so I can think again, and write again. The tension I was carrying around exhausted me like nothing else. I think I still need a massage just to break up the tightness in my shoulders, though. If I didn’t already have gray hair, I’m sure I’d have it now. Uff da. And he's only 11!


We have been living in a swirl of home improvement activity for the last few weeks. Kory is working full time on the house since the weather has been so nice and we’re trying to get many projects done before we go to Norway in May. He finally got the tile all set on the porch but he’s yet to grout it (see photo). We spent a whole day just cleaning it in preparation for sealing it, but the slate is so porous it didn’t dry right away so maybe soon he’ll have it sealed, grouted and sealed again. I love how it looks. I miss access to that porch though as I so enjoy sitting in the sky chairs looking out at the light filtering in through the woods in our backyard. But those days aren’t far off now.

Today felt like a monumental day because Kory finally tore the roof off our summer kitchen. I’ve never really liked that building as it blocks much of the view of the valley from our dining room window, but that will soon be remedied. We’d planned to put up a sod roof until we realized just how much more of the view we’d lose, so we’ve now decided to tear down the whole structure to the foundation walls and just see what ideas come to mind on how to use the space once all the ugliness is gone. The area the summer kitchen occupies gets the most sunshine around here so I hate to cover it over with any kind of roof, so we’ll see what may come of it.

I was thankful Kory had help today – a young guy from our church was here all day working with him. The same guy was here all last week clearing our hillside and pruning some trees. I don’t want Kory doing too many risky things around here. I’ve had enough accidents to last me for a while.

Yesterday Kory tried out the zip line for the first time in a long while. I’ve been telling him it hasn’t had any kind of safety check and I was nervous about other people wanting to use it. Kaleb only weighs about 55 pounds so when he goes on it, not much can go wrong. Kory tried it out, and sure enough, it failed. The chain slipped down the trunk of the tree it was wrapped around and Kory landed hard, first on the roof of the summer kitchen, then hard onto the ground. He’s been sore all day. I’m just thankful he didn't break anything. I so wanted to say “I told you so,” but the aches and pains he’s feeling today say enough. When I remind him how many dangerous contraptions he’s set up around here for Kaleb to “play” with, all he responds with is, “That's what makes them fun.” What kind of logic is that?

We have company here this week – the directors for Missoula Children’s Theatre are staying with us while they work on the play “Jack and the Beanstalk” with a group of homeschoolers. Kaleb (even with a bad cough) got cast as the “Lion tamer” today so he was pretty excited. The tryouts were just today and the production is on Friday so all this week he has five hour rehearsals. I need the break from schooling him and Kory is using the time off to continue tearing down the summer kitchen. Life is good once again.

My Norway column in the local paper seems to be going well.  I'd post the last two publications but they are held captive in my office computer and currently, someone is sleeping in my office, so it will have to wait.  The laptop I'm using has limited capabilities.  Boy do I know how that feels.