READING, WRITING AND 'RITHMATIC

READING, WRITING AND 'RITHMATIC: Reading: I was an early reader. I do not remember being coached to pronounce words other than “Breakfast” when I was still in diapers. My childhood books were: The Bobbsey Twins,Black Beauty, Beautiful Joe, Little Women, Jo's Boys, Eight Cousins, Huckleberry Finn, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Glenn Balch (Idaho author who wrote about teens and horses), Reader's Digest Condensed books, Junior High Library from which I was once banned until my grades improved, The Emmett Public Library where I discovered “Stranger In A Strange Land” by Robert A. Heinlein as well as Isaac Asimov. Google “Death of a Foy” and prepare to laugh your arse off. Speaking of Humor, I was at Uncle Paul's house in Boise years ago. I picked up a book lying on the table next to the couch. It was of all things. “The Bishops Jaegers” by Thorne Smith. I giggled, guffawed, snorted, gasped and chortled. At one time, Aunt Wanda asked, “Should Roycie be reading that?” The book was written from the view point of the characters' underwear. My favorite was Aspirin Liz. She wore sturdy cotton drawers held together with a safety pin I collected books for many year. When I moved to Barrow, Alaska in 1989, I sold off my SciFi collection. They were all snapped up family browsed the many cardboard boxes. I did take some of my favorites. When we finally settled in Coquille, I began collecting with a vengence. I also purchased several folding bookcases. I now possess about 3500 books, most downstairs pretending to be a library. There are also bookcases in the hallway upstairs, four or five in the upstairs north bedroom and one bookcase in the dining room. As my cataracts worsened, I was unable to read small print. Doom! I purchased my first Kindle in the 2000's. It was fabulous and had scalable font. The more recent Kindles allow me to make comments on the books as well as highlight a word to get a definition. Boy have a learned a lot of stuff. This year my cataracts were both fixed. I can now read anything including the Klingon subscripts. Turns out they were not arguing about ingredients for spaghetti sauce. AND I can read my physical books. Hooray for technology. WRITING: When I was in the fourth grade at the old Wardwell School, I was started on drawing loops, swirls, tornado things all in an effort to learn cursive. All of the kids taught by this teacher had the same lovely cursive writing, lt was legendary actually. I was left handed and learned to do it all upside down. As a result my palm was perpetualy stained with lead pencil. Finding a left handed school desk became my mission. 'RITHMATIC: I was in the first grade and we were given a test to write out the numbers zero through ten. I distinctly remember whispering to a classmate, “How to you make a three?” My only other instance of cheating was as a Freshman at Emmett High School. The entire class average for one English test was a solid D. So we were told that we would do the test again next week. I did not study. I memorized the letter answers from the last test. The teacher presented the same material but in a DIFFERENT test. I promptly got a second F. Me and arithmatic never did get along, until Algebra, It was like telling a story only with numbers. Geometry was part art form because I typed the theorems and used red and blue ink to demonstrate the figures. I love Turbo tax! God bless who ever invented that program! HAPPY NEW YEARS! Gotta be better than 2020.

GOING TO THE MOVIES

Going to the movies: 1. When I was a kid, we would occasionally go to the drive in movies. If Dad asked Mom if she wanted to go the movies, we paid instant attention. If she said, “Oh, I don't care.” That meant we were going! We would all pile into what ever station wagon that was being driven. We wore pyjamas. There was no food or drink taken along. We would park in one of the inclined spots. Dad would put the speaker in the window. The drive in at the time had a playground. Can we go play? NO! The drive in had a concession stand. Can we go? NO! The first movie I remember going to see was King Kong. Then we went to see The Long Grey Line. The first inside movie house I ever went to was the one in downtown Emmett. Grandma Berglund had drooped us off to go see The Wizard of Oz. At the point where the witch is riding her broom writing “Surrender Dorothy”, my brother and I looked at each other and exclaimed, “I'm scare!” “Me, too!” We scurried out of the theater and wandered around downtown until we saw Grandma Berglund. She was upset that we had left the movie early. We went to lots of afternoon movies, we would beg Dad for pocket change and go. That was downtime for them. The theater had a concession stand but we never had enough to purchase anything. I was particularly fascinated by the Radar Range hot dogs. It was just hot dogs rotating on a rotisserie and they looked wonderful. The theater had loge seating where teenagers liked to occupy in order to make out. In the mid seventies I took Charlie there for a donate-a-can cartoon fest. We sat in the loge with what felt like a hundred kids. I could barely see the screen. But I was not going to let Charlie get trampled in that mass of kids. I was afraid the place would collapse. The only other time that I went to that theater was in the mid sixties. I had come home for Christmas. I went there with a high school girlfriend and we shivered and watched Dr. Zhivago. Yikes! When I first moved to California, I stayed with my cousin and his wife for a few months. One evening Carl said that we were going to the Petaluma Drive in for an EIGHT HOUR Beach Blanket Bingo extravaganza. I sat in the backseat of the 1965 Mustang. Very hard seat. Also the fog rolled in, he fog rolled out. In the late sixties, I went to a drive in movie with Judy Jones in West Virginia. The top of the mountain was shaved off and the place was segregated. While working at Fairchild, I went with my first roommate to go see both Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music. A date once took me to go see ”2001 a Space Odyssey”. He fell asleep. The hippies all got up and waltzed when they played the Blue Danube. I once drove to the city to see of movie all by myself. There was a very long line. I cannot remember the title but it had hippies and war protesters and it was fairly humorous. When I was married, first husband and I went to see Patton on our honeymoon. It knew it was going to be an Oscar winner just from the music alone. We went with friends to see In Cold Blood purely by accident It was a very good film. We also went to see The Godfather. I really liked that one. Also, another pair of friends went with us to go to a little place called The Screening Room. It was a porn theater. Seating was sparse, we all sat together in the first row. We had a tremendous view of a 12 foot tall pudenda. Unshaven. Most of the scenarios involved naked women masturbating. There were no men doing so. Also there was an advertisement looking for actors for these movies paying fifty dollars an hour. Um okay. Did not go back, no plot. The summer that Charlie was born, I talked Mom and Dad into letting my sisters stay with me. Mike took us to a drive in, I only remember that it was somewhere in Marin County. I am fairly certain that the property has since been developed in very spendy housing. In the late seventies I went with family to go see Close Encounters of the Third Kind. And of course sprinkled in here were Star Wars. I only wanted to live long enough to see the trilogy. When the long awaited Star Trek came out, I took Charlie to go see it. During the start there was a very long shot of the approach to the Enterprise. Charlie asked me, “Is this the exciting part, Mom?” Uh not quite. One summer I took Charlie to the drive in movie in Boise to see Star Wars. We were interrupted by a train going by fairly often. Pretty sure that drive in no longer exists. One good thing that came out of Covid this year was the popularity of drive in movies. Wonderful. I hope they stay after things go back to normal.

2020

2020 what a year! Let me try to do this sequentially with an occasional meander off topic. January – I stopped driving in January because I found that I could not discern movement in shadow. I was terrified that I would hit a pedestrian. This all due to my cataracts. Eeesh, husband is a wonderful chauffeur. February – we started to hear about Covid 19, out of China. They buttoned up pretty well. Built huge hospitals to treat Covid patients. It spread very quickly. March – On Friday the 13th I had an appointment with Dr. Kumar. We went, I had labs done and Dr. Kumar told me to report to the hospital in Roseburg because I needed dialysis. I went, the dialysis tech said he did not like the looks of the dialysis shunt. So I was scheduled to have a carotid cannula put in the next day. That went well. I was admitted after for observation overnight. Discharged the next day. That night I went up stairs to sleep and developed severe shortness of breath. Husband took me to the hospital. I was seen in ER. The doctor looked over my record for Mercy Medical Center and reasoned that I received too much of a medication and he would give me something to counteract that med. However I got a little too counteracted, the nurse kept reminding me to breath. I was transferred to Bay Area Hospital in Coos Bay. While there, they determined that I needed a higher level of care because I had developed long pauses in my heart beat. I do not remember anything after that. I was transferred to Mercy Medical Center in Roseburg to have a cardiac pacemaker put in. That went well. I was awake for that and felt like an elephant was stomping on my left chest. I was discharged with 19 medications! Husband ordered a large plastic storage container with five drawers to hold all of those meds as well as my supplements. I got home and did well getting all the meds sorted out. The next part I do not remember (Self diagnosed with petit mal, more later. At any rate, I probably took an additional dose of my meds having forgotten that I had already taken them). Husband says I was not responding so he called 9-1-1 and I was sent to ER at CVH. From there I was sent to Mercy Medical Center. I remember most of that visit. I told every old joke that I could think of. I was discharged. Within two days I was directed to go to Bay Area Hospital for dialysis because Davita was working on paperwork. I was told to report to Davita two days later to begin dialysis there. We got lost and got better diretions to find the correct clinic. We really needed a map. That session went well. April – it was during this time that I realized that I had petit mal. This is a strange little neurological diagnosis that involves a sort of seizure in that something triggers a total loss of memory. I was watching Wheel of Fortune one night and I realized that I had missed the last fifteen minutes. So I Googled “absence” and it took me straight to petit mal. I informed my PCP, Dr. Holland who scheduled me for an EEG and referral to a neurologist. Eh, I can cope without that. I have begun to record more TV. Oh, and this usually only happens when I am watching TV. It has happened a couple times at dialysis. I lost a half hour and an hour. Meh... May – I did not blog for May, perhaps I forgot? June – nothing. Covid. July – nothing. Covid. August – Had my cataracts removed. Got new glasses. So lovely, now I can read the Klingon subtitles on the screen. They were not actually arguing about ingredients to spaghetti and meatballs. Black Lives Matter happened somewhere in here. It was about time. I think police need repeated training in descalation and should probably carry tasers more often. More young black men would wind up alive. That is not the solution but it is a good start. September – Gale and her MIL came to visit. I can't believe I did not blog about that. We had a lot of fun. She brought her four month old Golden Retriever, Betty. She was a hoot. First thing that happened is that Gale locked herself out of her car. We were milling around outside. Joann asked our neighbor if there were any locksmiths. Yep, use Triple A , use my card. The Triple A guy came in about an hour and during that time my neighbor had volunteered to puppy sit miss Betty. The next day we got breakfast and set off for a day of entertainment. We went to Bandon and every place we went to eat was closed. So we drove to Coos Bay and ate at Shark Bites. They have fabulous fish and chips, I had black cod. Gale had halibut. The dishes came with cole slaw, mine is better. Dressing as follows; half cup may, 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar, four packets Splenda. Stir, pour over slaw. Delish! Got that recipe from a friend in Dillingham. The next day was dialysis day so the girls dropped me off and went exploring. When they picked me up, we went to Charleston for seafood. They had wonderful clam chowder. I had the scallops and prawns in a wonderful sauce. Next day they returned to Idaho. Hope they can come again next year! Also while they were here, Gale helped me clean out the upstairs bedroom closet. She liked a few things but we filled up ten huge bags of stuff to take to Bree's a local charity shop that raises funds for women who cannot afford mammograms. October – Covid. November – dreams. Reminiscing about Clover Drive. Mom and Dad's first home. Scheduled for procedure at BAH. Revision of upper vessels of the shunt. Dr. Rogalsky tied off two branches to force blood in to the remaining branch so it will enlarge. Thirty days Davita can begin using the revised shunt. Yay. Eventually will get the carotid cannula removed. December – weird little family mystery solved. A few months ago, I called Aunt Wanda to chat. She told me that #1 brother had called her to ask if Mom had ever been married before she met Dad? Nope, I didn't think any more about it. A few weeks ago, I found an Emmett Highschool website. I decided to post a question. I asked if any of my classmates of 65 knew if a grandfather or great uncle had married Virginia Horn. She may have been known as Ginny. I got an answer, Francis Frisbee. So I told #1 brother about it. He reported that he had applied for a copy of a Gold Star family drivers license for mom. He received a notarized copy of an affidavit for correction of a birth certificate. Mom's last name had been submitted as Horne and was corrected to Horn. Also her last name was changed from Frisbee to Berglund. Huh. I do wish I knew more about Mr. Frisbee, where did he serve, etc. Brother #1 is still investigating. Perhaps there will be more to talk about in future.

WELL THAT WAS INTERESTING

I have been scheduled for day stay surgery on the 30th of November for a couple of weeks to be performed at Bay Area Hospital. On the 23rd, I went to North Bend Medical Center for labs; blood work, EKG and Covid. We stepped outside so I could remove my mask, open wide, swab in the back of the throat. Gag reflex. The day stay nurse called to interview me and said they would confirm hours, date, etc. Someone did call and requested that I have dialysis BEFORE surgery because of electrolyte imbalance concerns. What, they ain't got Gatorade? I called Davita and asked if I could come in at 5 am. No problem, we will save you a chair. We got up at dark thirty and took off in rain, the usual Winter condition on the Oregon coast. Got there a little bit before 5 am and rang the outside bell. Husband to come back to pick me up about 9 a.m. He called me to let me know that BAH called to say we could come over after dialysis. Originally the scheduled call for me to arrive at 12 noon, prep and be in OR at 2 pm. Yeesh! I stupidly assumed my schedule had been rescheduled for sooner. Nope. I sat in that room for FIVE hours. Did not take in my Kindle, there had no TV, nuthin'. Husband took my purse with him to the waiting room, otherwise I would have asked me to fetch my Kindle from the car. The nurses gave me a call button but I promptly lost it over the side of the bed. Backing up a bit, the nurse left instructions for get nekkid (Dammit!) with nice warm paper washcloth. Front back, top bottom. Husband did the bits I could not reach mostly back and sides. Got into hospital gown, put on grippy socks. Got into the bed. There was a warming blank, silvery top that was hooked up to hose pumping warm air. Wonderful! One of the nurses who popped in introduced herself as Brajia. I did not tell her that one of our cats was named Braja. Very original of her parents. About hour two, husband decided to go the waiting room to watch his Kindle. Room time began at 9:30 and at 2:30 pm I was told that I would go to OR. Finally. Oh, and the nurse put a shiny aluminum hat on my head. I assume to prevent heat loss and apparently block my super power of mental telepathy. Nice anesthesia lady put me on a bit of oxygen by mask and then take a deep breath, here comes the anesthesia. I woke up in recovery and shortly wheeled back to room nine. Husband showed up, I received discharge instructions, no showers for two weeks, change dressing Thursday, here is some Oxycodone for pain. I have a fairly high pain thresh hold, so decided NOT make big pharma richer. Nurse took off all the monitor stuff and the IV. I was free to get dressed. Husband helped. Nurse rolled me downstairs to the front. Husband drove up to where I was. Got in the car, thanked the nurse and we drove straight to Mickey D's. I had not eaten since last Sunday night. Ordered small hamburger, small fries and an iced flavored coffee. We were gone from home for 12 hours. Because it was dark, we got to see all sorts of Christmas lights. The best display was the railroad museum, it was light up and very pretty! Got home, got comfy. Husband took a nap and I puttered around a bit. Pretty sure I do not want to do that again very soon. The people at Davita can use use the revised upper fistula in three weeks. The procedure which Dr. Rogowsky was where there were three branches on the upper end, he ligated two branches which will put more blood flow into the single fistula. The reason they ordered this done was that the upper fistula was deep and easy to extravasate. When that happened a couple of times, the blood did not resorb for a couple of weeks, bruising was ugly and extensive. The area got hot, hard and hurt. While they were letting the fistula rest, they used my carotid cannula. That cannula will probably be removed once the repaired fistula is working well. Crap! That will be another trip to Bay Area. Hope it doesn't take another twelve hours. I WILL take my Kindle.

MORE DREAMING

Woke from a strange dream this morning. The first part was where Jason Mamoa (sigh) was cooking a huge pot of spaghetti sauce. There was a nice meat sauce bubbling away and he added chopped fresh tomatoes. There were also six apples prepped for roasting. The second part of the dream was a bar. All of the male bartenders were putting on wigs and make up to look like Jason Mamoa. The third part of my dream was that I dreamed that Jason Mamoa was showing how to build a log cabin. The top area was left open for air circulation. The next three feet or so were end cut logs wedged apart in order to stuff with insulation. Dream symbols are cooking, celebrity and log cabin. A to Z dream site says that cooking shows my desire to influence others or to express my creativity To dream of a celebrity is to believe in what the celebrity is known for. For instance, Jason Mamoa is well known for his love of family and conservation. To dream of a log cabin indicates success, self reliable, independent, humility and that I prefer the simpler things in life. I ain't complicated. Good news. I wonder what the symbol for good humor is, gonna remain a mystery for the time being.

CLOVER DRIVE

Ah..Clover Drive. I have many memories of that little home. Shortly before I entered the first grade, our family moved to Boise, Idaho. In particular, Clover Drive. It was a small subdivision located behind The Old Soldiers Home. The house was two bedrooms, one bath. It was located at the end of the street. In back the house was pasture for the dairy herd at the Old Soldiers Home. We never saw any cows in that pasture. The only reason Richard and I did not haunt the place was because there was a big old bull pastured there. Dad assured us that we would be safe so long as we stayed on our side of the fence. Soon after we moved in, Dad took me to my first day of school. As it turned out, I needed to be at a different school for which I had to take the school bus which was fun. Our neighbors to the south of us were Pat and Betty McCoy. He was a meat inspector and she was a pretty plump housewife. They asked Mom and Dad to cat a Siamese kitten for them. It was about two weeks of crazy kitty dashing about. Then the kitten was shipped to it's forever home. There were lots of kids in Clover Drive. We happened to have an old shed in the back that contained a twin bed which stood in as a trampoline. One time a bunch of us decided to put on a show. We went around the neighborhood telling the adults when it would be and we would be charging a nickel a piece. Unbelievably, a few parents did show up and watched a bunch of giggling kids jump on that twin bed and sing, I think. The parents were very polite, if not a little relieved when we finally stopped bouncing and yelling. One weekend my older cousin, Carl, came for a visit. He cooked cracklings over a wood fire built in the backyard. I still like real cracklings. Just past the end of the street was a farm house next to the Boise river. The farmer's wife would ring the triangle when it was time for her husband to come to dinner. One weekend several parents and mine went to the river to enjoy the water. We kids played like crazy. At one point, Richard said that he could swim. Can't. Yeah, all you gotta do is move your arms like this1 and in he jumped. I believe one of the parents spotted him jump and got him out immediately when it became obvious that he did NOT know how to swim. (Which prompted the swimming lessons one summer while Dad worked in Hell's Canyon). Both Richard and I each had a couple bouts of both chicken pox as well as measles. Immunization did not exist in the 50's. If you got it, you got it. I remember lying in a dark room listening to the radio trying to figure out how those little people got inside the radio. I looked very carefully but never did see anyone. I really liked school. Especially painting. I actually had a piece of my work hung in the Boise Art Gallery. It was a giant white rabbit painted in profile on a bed of very green grass. There was a tree trunk on the right with rounded foliage and a quarter yellow sun on the left. I imagine the entire class had their paintings there on display. Probably titled something “First Grade Realism”. I actually joined Brownie Scouts. I don't remember much other than it was from these meetings that Mom acquired the recipe for Chocolate Mayonnaise cake. That and I learned how to sew a tiny felt coin purse with s snap to keep my pennies. One of my favorite toys or maybe much borrowed from other kids, was a pair of skates. I adored skating. Of course there were minor injuries. I got the web of my thumb caught in a little metal rifle when I pulled the handle back. Ouchie. We had a pair of little wooden folding chairs. The back lifted up for folding. Richard lifted the seat while still sitting and pinched the heck out of his fingers. We had television for the first time while living on Clover Drive. It came on about noon and was on until about 5 pm. I remember Dad telling us that we were going to visit Uncle Carl and Aunt Rosalie who had TV that broadcast all day long! I was terrified of one program, it was Flash Gordon. Just about the time he was going to get eaten by the giant octopus, I was peeking at it down he hallway. There was a house I had to walk by each day that a fence behind which very noise German Shepherds barked at us kids on our way to the bus stop. It was very scary. One time on the way home on the bus, just as I was getting ready to come forward to get off the bus, I noticed a couple of dumb old boys talking and pointing at me. As I passed, one of them jumped up and kissed me on the cheek. I got off very puzzled and didn't have time to hit him. Another time, as I walked down the lane, a butterfly landed on my dress. I was enchanted. We stayed at Clover Lane for a couple of years. I am not sure why the suburban life ended but I am pretty sure that Dad lost his temper at someone or other at Idaho Power and quit. Aunt Wanda reminded me that Dad purchased a drag line after that in order to bring in a living wage. We lived on a farm near Payette at that time. We went to school there in a lovely old story brick school house with a lovely safely slide that I never got the opportunity to go down. Dad told us years ago that a man can always find a job. He could not stand laziness. He the army a qualified mechanic and knew his way about any kind of motor vehicle. His passion though was large machinery. He operated caterpillars, back hoes, drag lines but never got to operate a crane. Our favorite toy as kids were cotter keys used to hold the teeth in a back hoe. We thought we had the keys to the kingdom.

ONCE MORE, ONLY IN BARROW

I have not previously documented this story. It was summer in the mid 90's. A young man came into the hospital durig afternoon walk in hours. His story was that he hitchhiked the Dalton highway. Whenever he saw a truck coming, he would lie down in the middle of the road. The Dalton highwas is 414 miles to Deadhorse. Coldfoot is the last small village to get gas for the next 240 miles. He wound up in Deadhorse. There was no medical facilities there to treat his seizures. He was put on the next Alaska airlines flight to Barrow. They gave him a little cardboard suit case to hold his things. He was red headed, did have cerebral palsy and stunk pretty badly. There was nothing that the medical staff could do for him. They were pretty sure that his seizures were fake. He was put on the next jet to Anchorage with his little cardboard suitcase for Anchorage. I do wonder occasionally if he is still lying dow in the middle of a highway somewhere hoping for a ride.

DREAM

I woke from a weird snippet of a dream. I dreamed that I was at home visiting with Mom and Dad. Mom had an incredible head of hair. Her hair was strawberry blond, curly, very thick and came down to below her shoulders. She wanted to brush her hair but her arm hurt. I volunteerred to brush her hair and she refused. I began arguing that I could do a good job. But nope. I then woke. A to A dream site says to dream of Mom is to see your own sexuality, comfort, life giving. Seeing hair means you are considering solutions to a problem in your waking life. WEIRD.

MADONNA

WEIRD DREAM: I woke from a dream where I was taking down a statue of the Madonna. For some reason, this was at a church in Petaluma. There is a St. Mary's in Petaluma. Perhaps, I was there performing this desecration. My job, as ordered, was to take the gown off and I was having trouble maneuvering the material. There did not seem to be zippers or Velcro and it looked to have been sewn in situ. Eventually I got the fabric peeled up over the head. During that process I pulled off a very pretty Covid 19 mask that seemed to be made up of a muted pastel rainbow of colors. I think the statue spoke to me in mild protest. One of the parishioners had taken the two end beads of her gigantic rosary and put one bead behind her ear and the other bead snugged up in front. A to Z says to see the Madonna represents he mystical mother and giver of life. To see the Madonna also represents power. Well, I think that the fact that I have once again started driving indicates resumption of power over my life. Yay, me!

KLINGON

KLINGON: Klingon is what is known as a constructed language. Personally, I feel that the language needs to sounds more warrior like. There should be more hissing, more grrr sounds, throw in a few rolling r's and drool, there should definitely be drool and spittle if at all possible. I would also enjoy Klingon opera. “The Battles of Klingon Heroes”. A duet of warriors with Batleth. “The Ballad of The Klingon Assassins”. Klingons have a surprising operatic range going from Soprano to Basso Profundo. They can often be persuaded to sing Terran opera. They are very fond of Puccini. The current Klllingon sounds are all soft th sounds, much of the time Klingon sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball and not successfully. Having said that, I was discussing this with a friend who told me that there was a Klingon Scholarship. I decided to Google that and discovered about three scholarships. One is in the amount of 500 dollars awarded to graduate and post graduate students of language which makes a certain amount of sense. The 500 dollars would go well toward a Klingon meal (erk). They like their worms rare with a dipping sauce of poison. At least one other award from Star Trek scholarship award amounts between 500 and 1000 dollars. Kewl. Might be able to afford a small scooter with that. Sleep well Little Warriors. Oh, Look I wrote the whole thing without a toilet paper joke!

Last week of October 2020: Monday, the dietician at Davita stopped by to give my most recent lab reports. Phosphorus is a little high. Am I taking Selevemere with each meal. No, only at Breakfast. Why? Copay is over 70 bucks. She noted that I had my trailmix snack on the table. I said I ate that the last hour on the chair, so that I did not feel wiped out by the time I got home. She said that nuts have a lot of phosphorus in them and suggested that I eat a TUMs with them. Ok, I love tums and I shall substitute them for Selevemere when the bottle runs out! Tuesday I processed seven pounds of green tomato pickles, I got 7 pints of pickles and four pints of juice. I like to use that juice to put small onions or carrots. Makes a delightful pickle. I took two pints to Gail and Patty, they were a hit. I also took the last batch of Mexican Cheesecake. I hope they can taste the cream cheese as well as the cumin. My dialysis taste buds cannot. So not making that again. I was hoping to get my new glasses this week. Nope. I am not confident in driving if I cannot read street signs. Oy. They folks at Davita have beeb using my neck cannula. Because I have developed a really hard knot above the fistula that has a whistle. So I think I will be seeing a local surgeon who will first perform a fistulagram and then raise the vessel higher for easier access by the nurses and technicians. We are also starting later at 11:10 am, This gets me off the chair by 3:15 pm. I like it because I can get walkies in seven days a week rather than four.

Yay, I haz lappy!!!

Got the computer and I cannot seem to make the font tize larger in the Blog Smit! Mailed Lappy to Phil who turned it over to a friend who fixed the thing within 4 hours!! He put a free virus program called Avast. McAffeey kept firing up and interferring with stuff. The main problem was in the boot sector. He fixed that. It is now functioning very well. However I cannot figure how to make the zoom function work or make the font size change. Grrrrr. Also Blogger will now allow me to paragraph etc. I woke to a two part dream the other day. The first part was where I was in a room full of men. One very handsome man was sitting at the bar wearing a jacket mae of brown, tan, thin black line and cream. It was gorgeous. He also wore it over a cable knit sweat of cream colored wool. I could see every man plotting to purchase or make a similar jacket. (As if) The seccond part of my dream involved my neighbors across the street. We were going ree climbing in a lush forest. At one point, Gale handed me a phone and said, "It's your grandma." So I took the phone and chatted with y grandma Horn who died in 1982. I then said "I have to go,I saw three lilac bushes in bloom." The lical boshes were perfectly round growing in the tree and I wanted to get a lilac bloom to smell. A to Z dream site says that to see clothing is a symbole of public self and how you are perceived. to see a tree repesentes your achievements of career goals and attainment of position. As usual it is all about me.

I forgot to add this to the fruit cake sage

I had intended to include this in the fruitcake saga. When I worked in Dillingham, I discovered that holidays are a big deal. Christmas especially. The local religion is Russia Orthodox and one of the things that happens right after Christmas is a forty day fast. In the old days when food sources were not so plentiful, fasting helped the food stretch out during the winter. We had a choir come into the department to sing Carols, more like Russian Orthodox favorites. The priest came in dressed in his black cassock and black hat shaped like a brimless top hat. He carried the Russian Orthodox cross which is a regular cross with an additional slanted cross bar. One of the customs at work was that we drew names and were expected give a gift each day of the week. I decided to make Fruit Cake for the lady whose name I drew. I did not realize that the gifts were supposed to be different. I am pretty sure she was a bit disgusted by Friday. To divert for a moment, Janice Snow was in the habit of adding "ster" to anyones name, which she uttered in high good humor. For instance, Tim was Timster. Bob was Bobster. I was unfortunately called, "Roycester". sigh.. One day I received a gift from Karen. It was a can of smoked oysters. I was thrilled, I was gushing about how much I liked smoked oysters. Karen interrupted to say, "No, Look at the label!" She had used a marker to add R to the word oyster. Thus Royster. I nearly wet my pants.

FRUIT CAKE AND HOW I CAME TO LOVE IT

FRUIT CAKE: When I was a child, none of my extensive family ever made a fruitcake for Christmas. The first time I ever ate a piece of fruitcake it was grey, soggy, crumbling and the taste was overpowering with dates. Which I do not like. Many years later, in the 1970's, I ate a piece of fruitcake that was totally different. The recipe was from Letha Fashauer, first husbands great aunt. I begged for the recipe and it is as follows: Two cups sugar or Splenda Eight eggs, I like to use Jumbo. Two cups flour. Four teaspoons Vanilla. (I am going to add 1/2 tsp of salt.) Fruit is floured dates. Cup of raisens. Couple cups of walnuts. Red candied cherries Green candied cherries Candied pineapple. Mix well, use large bread pans. Bake one hour at 350 F. When cool, poke holes to absorb your favorite brandy. This year I decided to expeiment (Mom throws up hands in despair). I had purchased in interesting fruit nut mix of cranaberry raisens, cashews and almonds. I also had some dried mango. I had on hand almonds, macadamia nuts and walnuts. I wanted to make this very lemony, so I decided to use Lemon jello in liquid form and pour it over the cake. Then for the adult version, I planned on soaking the cake in Limoncello. Who knew Amazon would mail liquor to me? It tastes okay but okay is NOT good enough. It tastes flat and I intend to add the half teaspoon of salt. I shall leave out all nuts except walnut, I shall add dried pineapple, leave out the dried mango and I will stir the package of lemon jello into the batter. This will eliminate the layer of jello from the outside of the cake, which was just silly. I also have a bag of pitted Bing cherries, I may add them just for texture. I attempt this this weekend. I may purchase Kirsvasse from the liquor store. This might be sensational. Do not consume near open flame unless you truely wish to experience tongue flambe.

To day I had an electroncephalogram. Hello? Anyone? Yoohoo!!

Today was interesting. I had an appointment for an EEG. This is all part of my local doctors work up for my self diagnosed petit mal. I had an MRI a couple of weeks ago and the findings were some white matter changes which is normal for my age. Normal is good! So, got checked into Bay Area Hospital via ER entrance. There was very little parking available. Holy hospital patient's! Busy, busy, busy. The procedure was a bit more complicated than I had imagined. A nice technician named Morgan, came to get us. The room had a large comfy bed, TV, and a largish chair. I sat in the chair. I was given two heated blankies, lovely!! Morgan explained that she was going to put 25 EEG leads plus one on each wrist. I must have looked like Doc Brown when he answered Marty's knocking on his front door minus the colander. She put green washable marker all over my head after carefully measuring circumference etc. Then using a combination glue stick she marked those spots and then applied the leads. After that, the TV got turned off and I was told to close my eyes. She said the last two minutes would be bright lights flashing and advised that I consume caffeine soon therafter to avoid a migraine headache. OK. The entire procedure took about 90 minutes. After all of the leads were removed she did some scrubbing and put a heated shower cap on my head. That was lovely. I put on my black hat to disguise the Elton John Wind Beneath My Wings hair. We left and stopped at Micky D's for lunch and caffeine in the form of iced hazel nut coffee. Yummm! Then to home. No idea what the results will be, doubtful anything interesting. The theory is that you need to be exhausted before the test, so I got about three hours of sleep. Oh well. We shall see maybe. I was hoping for curly hair but that did not happen.

I forgot about THIS episode

I just remembered this episode from Barrow days. While I worked most often in the medical record department at SSMH in Barrow, we would rotate out to the front desk to provide coverage so the other ladies could go to lunch. One day, it was my turn. From noon on it was customary for people to walk in to be seen in the ER. I was typing away one day and I heard a dulcet voice tell me that the name was Michelle K. I did a quick search and said that I could not find that name, could I have the date of birth. Oh, yes, here you are, Michael K. I asked him if he wished me to add Michelle to the Also Known As file. Yes, he/she beamed. I looked up then and realized that I sort of knew who this person was. He was kind of famous for wandering around towb dressed up in black Ninja clothes. He/She was seen and I didn't think anything else about it. A few weeks later, Ninja Boy kidnapped a married couple of teachers. He held them hostage in their own apartment. He was demanding that ACRC give him money for his sex change operation. Occasionally, Artic Slope Regional Corporation would issue dividends to their members. Ninja Boy was impatient and unwilling to wait until the next check. This went on all day and he decided to give up his demands for he ransom about the time that the SWAT team from Anchorage landed. I am umsure about the fate of this young man but am fairly sure that some time spent in lockup and hopefully counseling ensured. Only in Barrow.

FRUIT

I first became aware of fruit picking as a child. We lived in the Evergreen Trailer Park east on Main Street. There were five or six small cabins which were routinely rented out to fruit tramps. We knew of one family who followed the fruit circuit. They lived in New Mexico and came to Emmett in the summer to pick fruit. The family consisted of father, mother and a teenaged boy. They parked their little trailer in the same park as we. The orchard owners financed and built a labor camp. The building were made of cinderblock. I think they were hot to live in and pretty bare essentials. The Mexican laborers lived in these buildings. The orchards consisted of cherry, apple, prune, peach, apricot, nectarines, strawberries and watermelon. Watermelon was not picked commercially. I picked strawberries for 80 cents a flat which consisted of a dozen baskets. The berries were weedy and you had to fight the Daddy Longlegs for the berries. Fortunately there was a strong teenaged boy to pick up the flats and give you a new one. One summer, I earned about $35 which which I purchased one reversible black and whiteplaid wool skirt. Mom asked me if I was sure I obly wanted to buy one item, yep it was what the popular girls were wearing only about four sizes smaller. One very cool thing about living by orrchards was that Mom was call to ask if they had sprayed yet. If not we went to pick asparagus which grew in the irrigation ditches. It was wonderful My brother, Jim, called in green carrots. A memorable experience I had was picking cherries. I ate almost as many cherries as I picked the first day. By the next day, I was at the top of the ladder picking away and needed to have a bowel movement. I didn't make to the bottom the ladder. I walked home, went into the outhouse to clean up as much as possible and tossed by blue jeans down the shaft. Then I went in the house to get cleaned up and some new clothes. I returned the next day without eating any cherries. We were payed by the pound and the goal was to leave the stems on, do not remove the spur from which they grew. I think they paid from10 to 15 cents per pound. The Mexican teams were very fast, very efficient. Richard and I were picking prunes, we had four trees with a big bin in thd middle. The bins held about five hundred pounds. The Mexicans would pick the four trees clean in about an hour and move to the next. Once a orchard boss came around and said, you are slow but steady. One season, Richard and I were at Grandma Berglunds and we walked to an orchard. She had made lunch for us and of course about nine a.m. we were hungry. The sandwiches turned out to be buttered bread. We felt cheated but ate them anyway. I never got the chance to pick apples becauses the season started after school started. Kids could get an excuse to pick apples but Mom never allowed it. Mostly because she knew we were safely occupied at school. One time Mom and I worked in a nectarine packing shed. We dressed rather nicely, she let me wear a pair of her wool pants. At that time we were miraculously about the same size. After that, however, I grew a bit. She told me that she used to wear Uncle Taters hat band as a belt. She could not pronounce Clayton, it came out Tayton and evolved into Tater. At any rate she was offended that I was not as dainty as she. So she purchased a flat of Metracal. This was a chocolate diet aid. I drank that stuff down and enjoyed every can. Dad reported that a guy he worked with drank so much that he became constipated. The Metracal ceased as it was a tad expensive to waste on a chubby teenager. When I returned to Emmett as a displaced housewife, both Ellen and I worked on the South Slope at an apple packing shed. We met many people. The head guy came around to introduce two men, these are our friends from behind the Iron Curtain. The Mormon housewives shivered in their shoes. The two men were Romanian. One was a cattle rancher and the othebr was a wheat farmer. I got to know them. I askedn​one man what he was taking home for a Christmas gift for his wife. He replied, "Ool." ??? bah, bah...oh WOOL. I asked him to say good evening in Romanian he said Buna Sera. Wow, that sounds like Italian. He then gave me a brief history lesson of invasion by Imperial Rome. Huh. There was also a crew of Japanese men working there. I was driving the loaded truck of apples to the rail head in town, where they would unload the truck and load onto the freight train. I was gently warned to be careful because the men were lonely. Okaaaaaaaay. We used to go pick a tiny black cherry called Tararian. It was used as a pollinator only. We would pick and Mom would make black Tartarian cherry dumplings. Delicious! Which reminds me, have a quantity of pitted black cherries in the fridge and I have some bicquits in a can which I will peel into thin sections and bake for 30 minutes at 350. Maybe next weekend.!!

VISITORS

It has been a couple of busy weeks since my sister and her MIL, Joann came to visit. Monday, September first, about 5 pm, I heard a firm knock on the door. I opened the door and there was a young dog, frisking away. I bent to pet and ohh and ahh and looked up to see Gale. For some demented reason, I was not expecting her until Wednesay. Welcome! We chatted for a while and later on when everyone was ready to go to the motel room, Gale discovered that she had locked the keys in her car. Everyone was outside kind of milling about. Joann asked our neighbor, Gail A, if there was a locksmith anywhere. She answered, yes, its called Triple A. So we got the guy called who came in about an hour, unlocked the car and we were all set. In the meantime, neighbor Gail had fallen in love with Betty and four month old Golden Retriever. She promptly offered dog sitting services for however long my sister and MIL would be in town. Swell! That pretty much took care of the first evening. The next morning Gale came about 7 am, Joann was still sleeping in, and we went to a small cafe where Gail had told me had wonderful biscuits and gravy. They also had quite sturdy maple bars with yummy frosting. We purchased the bickies and returned to the house. We only ate two biscuits so we pooled the left o overs and gave them and Betty to our neighbor. Then we returned to my house and we both went upstairs to empty the closet from the north bedroom. They were all clothes which I had shrunk out of. YAY! I already had two very large black plastic bags full of clothing. So, we filled about seven of those sturdy plastic store bags with clothing. Gale did select a few blouses from the closet for herself. Then we loaded them into her car, took them downtown to Bree's, a charity shop who provides funding for women who need mammograms. They were not open so we jeft the bags in the doorway. We then went to pick up Joann and we shared the maple bar. Yummy! We decided to go to Bandon. Took the back road, very picturesque and curvy. We parked in downtown Old Bandon and toured about with masks. We firt walked to the Washed Ashore display. This is an art instillation of several of the sculptures made by local artists made of plastic trashed picked up from the beach. Very impressive, large seat turtle, a large fish with a mask on, heh heh. and a armature showing the copper wire inside the fish that holds the plastic. Almost everyone wore a mask. We did see a Karen and her five children, Greg must have stayed home. We went to the Cranberry Candy place. Joann found some salt water taffee for her husband. I found some jellies. Flavored lemon through blackberry and Licorice! I also purchased a half pound of chocolate toffee. Lordy! We decided to drive around a bit, we took the shore line drive and stopped at a place and admired the waves, sunshine, impressive rocks covered with seagull poop. Then we went looking for Lord Bennett, not open. Went back to Old Town Bandon, The Loft was not open. Okay, lets drive to Charleston to eat at the HighTide. They were not open! Um, how about Shark Bites? Yay, they are on 101 in downtown Coos Bay. We parked went in and ordered black cod fish and chips halibut fish and chips. They came with french fries and cole slaw. I have had better coleslaw, but ok. Went home, collected Miss Better and yakked until time to hit the hay. The next day, the ladies took me to Davita. They spent the morning going to Antiques 101 which is next to Shark Bites. When I got off the chair, I walked outside and could not see the car. I called Gale on her phone. I heard a horn hink and about that time she answered the phone and said , "We are in the shade." Okay. We decided to go to High Tide. We sat outside on the back deck and ordered Clam chowder for the ladies and I ordered the prawns, scallops, mushrooms sumpin' It was delicious. Then we went home and yakked some more. The ladies decided to go home early the next morning, so we said out good byes and they left. I had a lot of fun. Miss Gale says she will come next year. Betty will be full grown and well trained by then. The neighbors have already volunteered to dog sit. Thank you everyone!

CATARACTECTOMY

 Yesterday was very interesting.  My right eye was scheduled for cataract removal promptly at 7 a.m.  Yay! First appointment, the doctor is fresh.

We checked in at the Covid desk, then I checked into the front desk.  We sat on chairs with clean cards on them.

In a very few minutes, we were taken bac".k to the surgery suite.  As we were walking down the hallway, on the nurses, Lora, stopped me and said, "I would recognize that walk anywhere!"  I got a WALK? Um, I have never felt as if I had a "walk".  In the old working days I always adopted the motto well documented in the book "Little Women" of walk fast, frown and rattle papers importantly.  I would guess that manner in which I walk more closely resembles a slower stroll with hints of bewildered.

We were both escorted into the prep/recovery room where there was a chair for husband.  I was instructed to take everything off from the waist up. Sigh....so off with the clothes. I lay back on the bed and the ladies accomplished all of the prep. EKG, temp, O2 sats, cute red surgical socks with non slip feeties! Oh, yeah, and an IV access.

Whistled into the surgical suite. Escorted to narrow table.  Pillow under knees, scootched back a bit, forehead affixed with tape so head won't move.

Got face appropriately draped.  Given Versed, cool. I could only see white and an occasional blob of black.  The whole procedure took about ten minutes.  I could hear a sound like a train whistle.  I asked and Dr. Grigo said it was the cataract device doing it's job.

The people put on a clear shield over the eye so I wouldn't damage the cornea if I slept on my face. I was wheel chaired back to recovery, where all the stuff was removed.  I was given a pair of black sunglasses things to wear for three days.

I dressed and we waltzed out the door.

I was hungry and persuaded husband to take me to Myrtle Point at our favorite breakfast place.  I had crispy hashbrowns with a side of gravy.  Husband had his usual very large chicken fried steak, scrambled eggs and hashbrowns with a side of gravy.  Delish!

As for vision, I would estimate that I have about 75% improvement.  Looking forward to new glasses, probably sometime after October 15.  Yay!!!

Cooking yet again

 Tuesday morning, we went shopping.  As we were strolling through McKay's, I was telling husband that I was going to purchase ingredients for spaghetti carbonara puttanesca.  My list consisted of spahgettig and hard parmesan.  I already had the bacon and home.

He asked what puttanesca meant.  I told him it was Italian for whore.

There was a time when ladies of the evening, etc. were not allowed to eat in public.  Therefore they dined at home.

The dish they made most often, because it was inexpensive and delicious was the carbonara.

Begin by slicing a good four strips of thick cut bacon into lardon.  Put large pot onto boil with salt and oil.  Fry bacon.  Mix three eggs and grate lots of Parmesan in a separate bowl.  Pop in the pasta when the water boils.  Drain.  Add scoop of pasta water to bacon, Turn off heat.  Drop in pasta.  Stir in eggs Parmesan mix.  Grate more Parmesan on top, add freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Prego!  Manga! Manga!  

I did not have garlic bread...next time. Or vino.

DREAMS

 I woke from three dreams this morning.

The first dream was where I was back in Barrow, Alaska.  It was summer and I had driven to the beach with a girlfriend.  We saw the very large moon setting in the east.  We decided it was time to head back to town.  I have seen beautiful pink moons in Barrow, sometime in November.  The moon floats around the horizon and is absolutely gorgeous.

We were driving to Barrow and I realized that we were lost.  I decided to consult a map.  We were headed to a town called Oro. We decided to stop at the first place and inquire for directions.  I noticed that we were in a very deep U-shaped canyon. I stopped at a little store.  We went inside and three little Inupiaq woman were stocking the shelves with candy.  There were some jellies in a packet of six marked six dollars. I have the lady seven dollars.  I asked her how to get back to Barrow.  She said, "Just turn left at my house."  How many houses away is that?  "Three or seven." How will I know it is your house? "There is a weather station on my porch."  The problem then was trying to figure out what a weather station looked like.

The next dream involved puzzles.  I had returned with some odd shaped puzzle blocks and did not know what to do with them.  They were brightly colored and made of plastic.  I spotted a large board and decided I needed to use the puzzle on that game board and make up a new game.  I looked at the puzzle and tried bending it.  It snapped apart at the color lines.  Nice!

My third dream was of my Mom.  I was visiting and looking for books.  I did not care for any of the new books she had but she did have some her older books arranged in what looked like a shoe carousel.

This brings us to interpretation.  The general theme for the Barrow dream was lost.  Interpretation of lost is that you are still adjusting to new aspects of your life.  True dat.

The interpretation of puzzles is you have a mental challenge or a problem to solve.  Okaaaaaay.

To dream of your mother is all about the nurturing aspect of your own character.  I talked with her and that interprets as preoccupation  with some aspect of your daily life and you are not sure how to address that aspect.

Then I woke to NPR and a sore hip.   Oh, and the dreams were in full color and glorious sound.  That rarely happens.  My dreams are usually color only and no sound.

OUR GRANDPARENTS

We had two sets of grandparents who were similar yet different.

The Horn grandparents known as little grandma and lttle grandpa.  Were farmers they started out in Missouri.  Nora Beatrice Lattimer was working in a store when she met Riley Horn.  She was eight years older than he.  They married and had their first child, Loren, who died at about age two.  I do not know what caused his death.  I have seen pictures of his headstone in a graveyard in Missouri.

They moved to Colorado, neat Ford Morgan and may have homesteaded a farm.  It was a full quarter of a section which 640 acres.  Don't be too impressed, it was dry land farming, no irrigation done.  Seed was sown and prayers were said for a good crop.

They weathered the depression as well as the dust bowl.  Mom told me she remembers seeing dust storms lasting for days and being told as a joke that the Brown's farm had moved across the road.

They had friends in Colorado who moved to Idaho and sent word raving about the wonderful farm land.  About 1938 there was a very good crop.  The boys,  Ralph and Clayton, took the livestock via train to Emmett, Idaho.  Their parents and my mother, Virginia, rode with them in their brand new car.  Aunt Wilma was working for a Jewish family and married Lester Kast not too long afterward.

The Horn family rented several different farms and ultimately purchased about 40 acres down the south slope.

The Berglund grandparents, Charlie and Nellie came to Idaho in the 30's I believe.  But first, Great Grandfather Piers Anderson, left Sweden with Charlie, Albert and Dorothy in 1900.  They departed from Charlottenburg and arrived at Ellis Island.  At some point they were given the last name of Berglund.  

They eventually wound up in Minnesota and settled and farmed there.  When it looked like his children had settled well in the new land, Piers decided to return to Sweden.  He married and started a new family. We met our cousin, Ander Pierson ( I probably screwed up his name) at a family reunion a couple of years ago.  We had a very good time.  Dorothy stayed in Minnesota.  Uncle Al had wanderlust and would touch base ever once in a while.  Charlie met Nellie Rose and they married.

I think all of the children were born in Minnesota.  Vivian is the only eldest sister, Carl, Ralph and Paul. 

At some point Charlie worked for Morrison Knudsen.  He was a large equipment operator, cranes etc.  During the depression he was on standby to work for MK and although no one has ever verified it, I am pretty sure he was generous to his neighbors. 

He left the Lutheran Church once they had left Sweden.  His motto was always "Live a good life."  

Once they had moved to Emmett and purchased a farm near Letha they settled into the farming life.  Charlie helped dig many of the canals when the Black Canyon dam was built. The canals still do a very good job.  They are drained of water in the winter and filled in spring. 70 years ago there were lots of orchards; apple, cherry, prune, nectarine and peach.  To this day I drool at the thought of a ripe Improved Elberta peach.  Wonderful! 

I forgot one particular popular crop, watermelons.  It was very common for people to steal watermelons, throw them into a canal and race downstream to retrieve them.  The Frisbee's grew particularly delicious water melons.  Yum!

To my knowledge neither sets of grandparents ever met.  Well, first being farmers, the demands of milking cows twice a day and various other crops demanded a great deal of time.

Grandpa Berglund kept a small dairy herd.   He would never let us noisy kids go to the barn when he went milking.  I sneaked up to the barn door once and saw that he just put grain in the stall for the cows and did not use hobbles on their hind feet.

There was a very deep canal that ran right by the Berglund farm, it was from this ditch that many of the cousins captured very large bull frogs.  I was never a member of the hunting party but the equipment involved a willow stick pared to a sharp point.  Strangely enough, we never had fried frog legs. Crawdads also grew in the various sloughs near Letha but that dish was not part of  that culture.  ..sigh..

Grandma Berglund did not garden much but she did keep berries.  She loved raspberries.  I remember that after she died the women folk cleaned out dozens of jars of ragged gray looking raspberries.  I remember her serving them to us in little glass dishes.

Nellie was also very social.  She and Charlie liked to play card games with neighbors.  I do not know if it was pinochle or bridge. But she always brought home little crocheted and starched nut baskets.  I adored those baskets.  Mom merrily tossed those as well at the clean out.  I would have cherished those baskets. 

Nellie was Seventh Day Adventist and drove the old Blue Studebaker like a bat out of hell.  

Grandma Horn did not drive.  She gardened extensively and wore a broad brimmed sunhat.  She grew all sorts of vegetables. When they grew corn in the fields we had gloriously boiled sweet corn with butter and sprinkle of salt.  Nothing better!

As for fruit, she did not grow any but she did have a goose berry bush that grew on top of the cellar.  They, being from Missouri, built a cellar in case of tornado but none ever happened.  However it made an excellent place for the water heater, of all things and her canned garden produce.  I would beg her to make me a gooseberry pie and she would shudder the whole time she made the pie.  I loved them.  I was full grown before I realized there was such a thing as RIPE gooseberries!

When Paul and his wife Ollie milked cows, Grandma Horn skimmed the cream off until it was blue with her crooked fingers (Courtesy of a childhood bout of Rheumatic fever).  

The milk was separated into 25 gallon cans and trundled to the country road where there was a cement container with water deep enough to come to the neck of the cans.  The cart held 6 to 8 of the cans.  The milk truck came about daily to pick  up the cans.  The water was from the irrigation ditch and refilled continuously.

We kids were not allowed to swim in the cement pond.  Dang it!

The Horns kept chickens.  Grandma Horn fed them and I loved to help sprinkle feed on the ground.  She would not let me play in the hen house because of mites and the inherent disturbance of her laying hens.

She carefully washed and candled the eggs into a large crate.  Every two weeks or so, Riley drove them to town to Albertson's where she sold her eggs. That was her money.  If I was a very good girl, I would get to go with them and they would purchase something called Horehound candy which tasted medicinal and something called chicken bones which was a version of butter fingers.

Gandma Horn attended church every Sunday.  I would sometimes go with her.  It was the First Christian Church. 

Grandma Horn was slender and always wore dresses.  I think she wore her hair long then but it was bundled into something to keep it out of her face.  She gave me her five gallon butter churn.  She said that when she made butter it felt like she was marking time.  

Grandma Berglund, was large busted.  She could have served dinner plates on them.  She wore a very complicated girdle thing made of whale bone and lots of tabs, snaps and zippers.  It was fascinating.  

She always wore dresses.  I remember that her dentures were loose and they clacked when she talked or chewed.  Very bustling woman, hardly sat down a meal without jumping up to get this or that and stopping to briefly sample out of anyone's plate.  This particular act drove my mother nuts and we didn't eat at the Berglund's very often.  Grandma Berglund had a pressure cooker, she pressure cooked all meats.  It was was good, but mom never adopted that particular method of cooking,  Might have helped with the liver and onions.

I remember asking Dad what he at for breakfast as a kid, assuming he got a bowl of oatmeal mush like I did.  He said that they were so poor that they had to have beef steak for breakfast.

Grandpa Berglund, was very tall and had wavy dark hair.  He wore overalls that had a pocket inside of which was his pocket watch.  we would beg to sit on his lap to listen to the pocket watch.  He smelled of snoose which is a comforting smell for me.

Grandpa Berglund had a hay stack which he had used a hay rick to stack the hay.  We were not allowed to climb on the hay stack.

Grandpa Horn was short, bald, nearly deaf and bad tempered.  Grandma Horn kept us grand kids out of his way But they had hay bales.  Those we could climb all over, it was so much fun.

Grandma Horn had a feather bed mattress.  I got to help her make it by staying out of the way.  The few times I got to sleep with her on that old feather bed, I discovered that it lost the loft almost immediately.  But it was still fun.

About the only socializing the Horns did was with family.  The dinners for haying or harvest were fabulous.  Sometimes an old family friend would bring a movie projector and play films of a white face cattle drive and other interesting things.

That is all I recall at the moment.  Any siblings can chip in with what they remember.  

GOING FOR A DRIVE

When we were kids, the folks would take us for a drive.  It could be any length of time. Depending on which direction would could be reasonably certain of where we were going.  Headed west towards Ontario meant mom wanted to buy five pounds of margarine for a dollar and 5 pounds of sugar for a dollar.  

If we took the turn to Weiser we had no idea until we headed north to Cambridge.  We were going to Indian Valley to visit Homer Bott!!!  Mom did not prepare food because she know they would feed us.

On the approach to Homer's farm there was a dirt road that rose and fell over several rolling hills.  Dad loved to speed up to the top of the hills and float over with negative gravity.   We were thrilled and usually shouted, "Daddy, do it again!!"

We would go into the big old farmhouse.  There were three bedrooms upstairs, a full basement, downstairs was a bedroom, a bathroom, living room, kitchen.  The front porch ran the full length of the house and the had a piano.  I loved to plink on it until Mom got irritated.

They had a strawberry patch and when there were berries us kids would pick them and Bernice would make strawberry shortcake.

The family consisted of Homer, Bernice, Carol, Buzz and Gary.  Gary was about 9 or 10.  When he was younger he drank poison that had been stored in a soda bottle.  As a result he was effected mentally for the rest of his life.  In all other aspects he was just fine.

Homer owned a gelding named, Oscar.  Oscar was pretty smart. Homer had trained him to jump up in the back of the truck.  Whenever Homer went irrigating, he put Oscar in the truck and away they went.

I was horse crazy then.  I had read every Glenn Balch book ever written.  He was an Idaho writer who wrote about kids and horses.  My hero!

One time we were visiting and Oscar was saddled and I begged to ride him.  So I was on Oscar in the pasture north of the house.  I lifted the rains.  I had no idea what would happen next.  Oscar was trained to take off like a scalded cat with the rains were lifted.  So.....there we were headed straight for the fence. I did not have brains enough to haul back on the rains and holler "Whoa!".  My only option as we headed for the fence was to commit my soul to God and fall off at speed  Oscar skidded to a halt without a rider. I lay on the ground trying to look around to find my glasses.  Which were rather severely bent.  sigh....

Richard and Phil would both go help with the haying.  Dad went of course and a pretty good time and lots of hard work was had by all.

Dad and Homer had been acquainted a kids.  I am pretty sure they go up to high jinks.  Dad told me once that he had participated in a Chickeree.  I certain that Homer was involved.

A chickeree happens when a bunch of young folk who have been out to dances, drove all over the place, maybe sneaked a drink or two, discovered they were hungry.

Invariably, someones farm was nominated for the chickens.  I don't think the Berglund farm ever hosted such a shindig because they only had cows.

So the designated hen house was raided of about 5 or 6 chickens.  Speedily despatched, defeathered, and butchered and fried up.  I would love to have been a mouse in the corner watching all this nonsense going on.  Pretty sure there were some fairly upset farm wives the next day.

OUR HOUSE

 ...is a very, very fine house.

Let me tell you how we came to possess this 1928 beauty.

When we lived in Barrow, we would fly to the lower 48 for vacation.  One year, between visiting in Idaho, Washington and Oregon, we visited his sister in Salem.  She owned property in Coquille and invited us to ride there to take a look.  Away we went.  I had never been this way before and the ride was gorgeous! 

We were almost the 42 when suddenly a young bear was by the side of road.  He scooted back into the bushes.

We got to the house and is was the hottest day of tye summer, it was about 90 degrees which is almost unbearable.  We went into the house, there was an old brick walkway to the front door.  Carolyn had told us that a couple of families and a business were set up in the house.  As a result of that, the house was crammed with furniture.  The hallway from the front door to the half bath was packed floor to ceiling with boxes of stuff.

There was a path on the left through the living room which was also packed with furniture.  That hallway led past the half bath and into the kitchen. From there a door lead into the dining room which was also packed floor to ceiling. There was a folding door to the sun room on the north side of the living room but the sun room was packed solid as well.

We went upstairs. There were two large bedrooms, one small bathroom and full bath.  Each bedroom had someone in it working on a computer.  There was a door on the north side of the bedroom that led to a deck.

We looked into the attic briefly where there were several mattresses for the kids.

We shuddered and agreed that the house had good bones. 

Sometime in early 1998, we decided that we needed to be somewhere eventually so we contacted his sister and got things underway.

We got the house financed at the local bank in Coquille, the usual ick paperwork and transferring of funds etc.

We flew down for closing and before that we stopped in Salem to order a queen sized bed. We stayed to have dinner and by the time we got home the bed had been delivered and was sitting in the hallway. 

That was the first thing we did was put the bed in the living, which had a fireplace!  Didn't see it the first time we toured the place.  

Carolyn had made many improvements in the place before we moved.  She put in carpet everywhere but the kitchen, bathrooms and sunroom. She had a concrete walkway poured for the front.  She put chain link fencing in the back yard. She had the old oil burning heater removed and put in a high efficiency heat pump.  We were set!

We came down in October for all of that.  We purchased a van in Coos Bay for transportation. We were spending money like drunken sailors. 

After Christmas, we flew back to Barrow proud owners of our first and only house.

Would you like to know the actual reason I decided to move to the lower 48?  Remember Y2K?  Yep, I knew that the computers would keep working, but I was just superstitious enough to decided that if the computers did crash, I was not in favor of staying until things got better.  So I had a big assed yard sale.  Husband was already living in the house with the cat and her five kittens.

I made about 800 dollars at the yard sale which helped immensely when you move by mail.  I mailed a box or two every week and they were all waiting for me by the time I got there in December 1999.

I didn't have a job.  So, I began looking around. The hospital in Coos Bay sent me a nice good luck letter.  So I started searching and for heaven's sake there was a hospital in Coquille.

I called there and asked to speak to the Medical Records manager, Judy Colton.  We had a very nice conversation. She said she did  not have any openings but was trying to get a transcription position. Was I interested? Yeah.  So we kept in touch through the summer as I mailed boxes home.

People are serious about yard sales in Barrow. Most of them occur before school lets out for summer. The teachers who are moving have yard sales.  Mine was later in the year but I sold a whole lot of stuff.  I tossed a bunch of crap into the dumpster and anything left over from the yard sale went in the free corner in the room next to the washing machines.

I also had jury duty that quarter.  I was actually in the courtroom the day that I was scheduled to fly out.  Fortunately I was dismissed from that trial. Whew!

Got to Coquille and settled in for a few days.  I had an interview with the hospital administrator.  She and the office manager interviewed me.  And I was offered the job of transcriptionist.  I asked to start in January and voila I was employed!

By the time I went to went, Judy had fallen and badly hurt her ankle and was not going to be back for a couple of months.  So I came on as  Medical Record manager.  Sheesh!

Back to the house, we settled in and settled in and settled in!  People who visit just love the house, the kitchen is dreadful and needs a remodel but that ain't going to happen unless I win a HUGE lottery.

Here are my thoughts about what I would do with seemingly unlimited amounts of dollars.

In 2008 or so we had the roof replaced.  In 2010 we had Honey Do Construction come and paint and repair as much as possible. They did a great job.  At nearly the same time out sewer stopped working.  As it developed, the iron bits had rusted completly through and needed to replaced clear out the main.  Best thing is that we now have clean outs at all the appropriate places.  Also, we had someone put in French drains on each side of the front porch.  This prevented water run off going into the basement.

Now as for my remodel plans.  I would dig out the basement a good foot to get headroom.

New backdoor. 

Replace high efficiency heat pump.

Replace carpet with hardwood throughout the house. New front door. New doors throughout the house.

Replace all windows.

Put liner in fireplace.  Change mantle and surround.

Half bath remodel. Marble floor.  New sink and toilet.

Kitchen; floor with ceramic tile, cabinets deep enough to dinner plates.  For tallest need sliding library ladder. New counter top, prefer quartz.  No walls knocked down.  Would love dishwasher.  Farm sink. Pot filler at stove.

Dining room firm up floor so items in cupboard do not rattle.  Wall off outside door in dining room.

Screen doors on all outside doors.

Central vac all floors.  Whee!!

Bedrooms are okay, spruce up with paint, window treatment. Screens on all windows that open.  Would like ones that tilt in for washing.  (Like THAT will ever happen!)

Attic: full dormers each side enlarged to small efficiency apartment with kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, living room.  

Develop deck outside north bedroom.  Make a sunroom.

This allows a deck for the attic. 

Outside elevator to allow access to all floors.  Big enough to move furniture etc.

Garage in backyard.  Will need to remove trees.

Improve fencing. Get rid of ivy.  Have retaining wall made for half of lawn next to house.  Improve drainage in backyard.  Black top alley way.

Get lawn fixed either with seed or sod.

Last thing, have professional movers put everything in storage with instructions to discard all empty cardboard boxes.

Treat house for carpenter ants.

Power wash house get spider webs off.

Forgot, purchase triplex so we can be close during renovation.  What fun!

TAXONOMY

 Taxonomy the science of names.  I have been witness to many names having filled out hundreds of birth certificates over the length of my career in medical records. Some were more memorable than others.  One from Barrow is one I will never forget.  One mom gave her little boy four first names; Ryan Bryan Corey Craig.  I wonder which one he responds to? It was also common to give a boy the first name of "Captain" as that is a major aspiration to become captain of a whaling crew.

When I worked at Fairchild Semiconductor in the mid 1960's a lot of black girls worked there.  One young woman, absolutely gorgeous. Had a little girl.  I asked her what she had named her, she replied that she had named her "Kokwinda".  It was the new fashion to eschew slave names.  I had never heard of such a name and I am sure I looked shocked.  

It has been sixty years now and at least three generations of children no longer have slave names.  Sometimes it is difficult for me to tell what sex the names belong.  Shaquille certainly sounds manly.  All sorts of combinations come together in three syllable names.  Some are very creative and quite pretty.  

However, the extremely rich and famous kind of go for odd names.  For instance Elon Musk recently named his baby boy X A(backwards letter) E A-12. This is pronounced X ash A-12.  Hmm, I suppose the nickname might be Ash.  Ash Musk. Hmm mebbe not.

The child can modify that once he has reached legal age.  Or not.  He might name his children differently.  

I wonder what Musk would name a little girl?  Musk Melon pronounced MiMi? Charming!

I watched a black lady comedian a while back she was talking about kids names beginning with non slave names and said that she was in a mall and heard a mother call her child, "Escalade! Get over har!"  Well, could Cadillac be very far behind? Cars do have creative names.  "Chevy Mohammed, get home!"

What with the recent very unpleasant events in Wisconsin it is highly doubtful that any moms will be giving their babies the name of "Kenosha".  Which is native American and means place of the pike.  On the other hand, that name may be bestowed in honor of the suffering of that young man who is paralyzed from the neck down. 

I also foresee babies named Justice, Freedom, March and Liberty.

It will be very interesting to see if any of these names actually happen. 

COOKING

 I have been reminiscing about my cooking.  The very first thing I remember making was a pumpkin pie. I was about 14 or 15. For some reason, I was staying with Grandma Horn.  She was gone visiting with Aunt Wilma and had taken the train to Denver.  

While she was gone, I was being supervised by Uncle Paul and Aunt Ollie.  They worked the farm, getting up early to milk the cows and other farming tasks.  

I was left on my own.  Heh, heh. heh.  I was hungry for pumpkin pie.  I had at hand a nice sized pumpkin.  I cut it up, scooped out the seeds and boiled it until tender.  I then mashed it up into pulp. 

I had two pumpkin pie recipes; Grandma Horn's and one other. For some demented reason I decided to combine the spices of both recipes.  I do not remember what I used for crust but it sure wasn't Grandma Horn's very tender lard and flour version.  

I combined the ingredients and baked it at 350 degrees for one hour.  I let it cool before tasting.  It was very strong.  I knew I could not waste it no matter how bad it tasted.  So I ate a piece each night until it was gone.  

I did not make another pumpkin pie until I was grown and married.

Mom always commanded the kitchen, she fed us and input to preparation of food was limited to sorting pinto beans on the table to pick out rocks in preparation for chili

The only other time any of us were drafted into the kitchen was to hold down the breadboard to which was clamped the meat grinder.  This was used to grind up cranberries for the black cherry jello, cranberrie, celery, walnut relish.  I love this stuff!

Our job was also to hold the jar to hold the dripping from the crushed cranberries.  This was accomplished with much exhortation to hold still! Keep the jar under the drip! 

My next major attempt at the culinary arts was an attempt to make Saurbraten.  That is a tasty German dish made by marinating meat in vinegar.   

It just so happened that I had on hand some venison.  I followed the recipe, I marinated the cut up venison in vinegar for three days.  When it was completed it had turned gray and looked like bad tuna fish.  I tried cooking it but had no takers.  It got tossed.  

I also had a recipe for pie crust that called for a tablespoon of vinegar.  Any mention of vinegar to the family caused much hilarity.  Even though that pie crust recipe is pretty good.

I have eaten my share of venison and do not care to have any again.  It is best when fried in bacon grease, or ground up with pork and buckwheat flour for hamburger patties.  The absolute best venison liver I have ever tasted was a young buck shot in season at Grandma LaVann's ranch.  We had fresh back strap and liver quickly fried in bacon grease.  It was fabulous.  But then, working hard in all that fresh air gives one an appetite that is easily appeased.

I discovered year later that I am genetically a non-taster.  That means I do not taste bitter very well.  I learned that when I was attending biology at BSU. The professor handed out litmus paper.  He told us to chew on it.  If we were non-tasters we would not taste anything but paper. Tasters would taste the bitterness of the litmus paper.

However, Mom used to occasionally cook liver and onions everytime we had a steer butchered. Fortunately that was only once a year because the cow only had one, thank God, liver.   

She would brown the onions, fry the liver then bake it until it was the consistency of leather.  We ate it because that was the only way to get dessert.  The onions were delicious. The liver was gritty, gray, tough and took much chewing and drinks of milk to get it down.  But get it down, we did. Dessert was waiting.

Another unpleasant beef byproduct was tongue.  One day I cam home from school and there was a large gray cow tongue on a plate.  I asked what it was and Mom said tongue.  I was disgusted but went on about with homework and reading etc. 

About a week later a new sandwich spread appeared for sandwiches.  It was the beef tongue. She had boiled it, peeled it, ground it up in the meat grinder.  Surprisingly enough, I was not the one chosen to perch on the breadboard.  

She ground it up, added onions, dill pickles, salt, pepper and mixed it with mayonnaise.  It was delicious.  

I used venison to make mincemeat one year. It was quite a production.  I canned the mincemeat and forced...uh gave it away as Christmas gifts that year.  Got rid of some venison and did not make any mincemeat pies.

I have a wonderful recipe for Fruit cake.  It have always disliked fruit cake and discovered quite by accident that I did not like citron.  So Letha Fashouer's recipe calls for a basic batter of lots of egg, some flour, vanilla, salt.  To that add chopped dates, green and red marischino cherries and the pinapple sold the same time as the cherries.  Also lots of walnuts.  When baked cool and soak in brandy.  I used to make several loaves each year.

This year I decided to adapt the recipe and it bears no resemblance what so ever other than the batter.  I did a trial batch using a mix of cranraisens, almonds and cashews.  I soaked some with Limocello and some with Lemon jello.  I actually prefer the lemon jello version.  Next batch I will zest a couple lemons for more flavor.

I also have an ancient recipe for chocolate mayonnaise cake.  I brought it home from the Brownies way back when mom was being suburban housewife.

A couple weeks ago I decided to make one.  The only substitution I made was to use Splenda instead of granulated sugar.  It turned out okay but I wasn't happy with it.  It was not nice and moist on top.  I have determined that I will use granulated sugar next time, give it to my neighbors across the street along with the rest of the sugar.  You eat it!

One of our favorite cakes as kids was raisen spice bar with powdered sugar frosting.  Mom came to have this recipe from when we lived in one of the trailer parks on the Hell's Canyon project.  A neighbor lady made one and Mom got the recipe. This same neighbor lady taught me how to make button holes.  Handy thing to know.

When ever she made this we knew we were going someone.  It was usually to a dance in Ola.  This was a family affair. The wives made dishes for a potluck supper. They passed the hat to pay the musicians and the midnight supper was held.  I learned many things at those dances; for instant never get in between two men determined to punch each other in the face.  This cake made many appearances at the Berglund dinner table.  We always had dessert. As a result of all those desserts, I have quite a collection of jello recipes.  

One of my favorite condiments is green tomato pickles.  My Grandma Horn made them and I was introduced to them as garnish on a hamburger.  Yummy!  I have made and hoarded several batches over the years.  

I have always loved cooking a turkey for either thanksgiving or Christmas.  We always got a free turkey at work and I loved to pick the carcass and boil it in a large stock pot and strain that for use in future dressings.

My favorite Christmas dish is to get a bone in ham to cook overnight in the oven at low temp. At the same time I like to take frozen Rhodes rolls, put in a pan, sprinkle with butterscotch pudding (NOT INSTANT) on top of the rolls. When the ham comes out in the morning, the rolls will have risen, don't forget lots of butter on top. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes for perfect sticky buns.

A while back I decided to purchase three boxes of butterscotch pudding from Amazon.  I received three large boxes containing three packages of six boxes each.  I possessed a total of fifty four butterscotch puddings!  I managed to get it  down to one box by schlepping some to Davita and some to my neighbors. Oy! I have sticky buns in my future!!

I have a recipe for tamale pie from Barrow days.  I got the recipe out of the Sunday Anchorage paper.  It called for using breakfast steak, which is thin sliced steak.  Yellow, green and red bell peppers roasted.  Ricotta cheese. Onion. Garlic.  Red pepper flakes. Salt. Pepper.  Corn meal. Topped with frozen onions.  I took it to a potluck once in Barrow, the nurse eating it exclaimed, "I want to bury my face in this!" It is a favorite of husband.

Dammit now I'm hungry! Must go walkies.

FRIDAY WAS INTERESTING

 This past Friday was interesting.  I had a three o'clock appointment with my Ophthalmologist, Dr. Grilo.  Google says Grilo is Portuguese.  

He told me about what he could do for me vision wise.  Did I want to wear glasses? Uh, yeah, I have worn them so long that I would feel naked.  And there is no need whatsoever of inflicting the face upon the public.

Apparently the lenses that get inserted after the cataract removal can be fashioned to give you a very good degree of acuity.  My left eye is now 20/400 which is legally blind.  My right eye corrected to about 20/40.  

He said he would leave vision so that I could read at arm length.

I then asked him when he graduated from medical school.  He said 2008.  So I gave him a little history.

Way back in the mid 70's when I was a displaced housewife.  I took the standard put peg in hole test at the local employment office.  The lady Social worker informed me that I tested out to be compatible with OSHA inspector, Nuclear laboratory technician and Medical Records.  

At that time people were shooting at OSHA inspectors in Idaho.  I didn't want to live in Twin Falls in order to work at the nuclear labs.  Um, what is Medical records?

So I enrolled at Boise State University in the two year Associate of Science degree for the Medical Records program.

While pulling a full load, I also worked full time at St. Alphonsus Regional Medical Center.  One day a woman came in for a cornea transplant.  Everything went very well.

A few weeks later, she came in with an advanced case of Rabies.  They could no do anything for other than palliative care.  She died.  The doctors was dumbfounded.  The woman had not been exposed to any of the animal vectors.

They decided to take a look at the donor of her corneas.  It was a man who had worked in eastern Oregon, a park ranger, I think.  He had died of rabies.

It was that moment that the medical profession recognized that the rabies virus could be transmitted in the corneas.  Now all corneas are tested for a variety of diseases as well as Covid 19.

Dr. Grilo told me some recent history.  A patient received cornea transplants.  In a few months the patient had developed malignant melanoma.  As a routine check the donor of the corneas was traced to a person who had died of malignant melanoma.  It was at that moment the medical community discovered that cancer cells could be transmitted in the cornea.  

Be careful out there.