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Posts Tagged ‘Country Adventure’

I Kinda Like This Man

I know this isn’t home but…….

Not Bad. They Have Toys Here

These people have my toys.

My name is Pichu (pronounced “Pee-Chew”) and I’m visiting some new people.  I met them once before and they seem nice but I am a little apprehesive about staying the whole day this time and overnight too.

My family are away at an ice hockey game in Maryland.

Some of my own toys are here and these new people  have squeaky toys too.   The lady gave me some chicken bits that were delicious.  Then they both took me outside.  Wow!  That was fun.

I’m resting now and there is time to think about home.  Pichu wants home, but this place will have to do.

Was a Deer Here?

Was a Deer Here?

Exploring Outdoors

A New World of Scents

A New World of Scents

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Dor and Bill  The Wanderers at Big Bear Lake, California

Dor and Bill
The Wanderers at
Big Bear Lake, California

 Daily Prompt: Salad Days

Is there a period in your own personal life that you think of as the good old days?

Tell us a story about those innocent and/or exciting times (or lack thereof).

They did not seem like the good old days but they were.

Right after we were married, Bill and I drove from Florida to California in a car without air conditioning or heat.  We crossed the desert at night with water bags tied to the front of the car and hanging out the windows (refills for a potential overheated radiator).  You might say it was an adventure but I cried all the way across country for leaving my home, my parents and everything I knew and understood.

And it did not get much better.

Bill had just graduated.  He was a real Civil Engineer and we were off to his first job building roads in remote areas of California.  There were no guarantees of furnished housing in strange places like Big Oak Flat, Hayfork, or Portola.  But we were young, eager, and flexible.

Well, semi-flexible.  One of our posts was in beautiful Hayfork, a mountain community where the only available rental was a one room shack with a tin roof and no bathroom. If I had known about blogging then I would have taken photos. However, since the view of our own personal shack was somewhat less than scenic, there are no such records available.

I painted and decorated the shack though and hung plastic curtains for shades.  And there was a shiny new refrigerator (the only mirror in the place).

There was a community bathroom and a shower for the ring of six shacks.  The tin roof made living conditions a bit warm sweltering hot, so we drove “down the hill” to Redding for an air conditioned motel room almost every weekend.

“I need to go home,” I would finally cry and Bill would send me back to Florida to visit my parents and friends.

But we made friends in Hayfork.

Ernie, the owner of the general store, had a small trailer/mobile home in his back yard.  One day Ernie asked if we would like to rent his trailer.  WOULD we!  It had an inside bathroom and tiny shower.  It had a tiny kitchen too, where I could cook, wash up, and put dishes away standing in one place (by simply pivoting around).

HayforkTrailer1

The trailer had a gas stove.

I never used a gas stove before so I decided to turn on the burners and let them go awhile before lighting a match.  BRRRROOOOOOOOM!  Everything exploded.  The doors and windows of the trailer blew open.  Our dog, Tinker, ran out and away (far away) into the snow.  My llama slippers were scorched.  I think my eyebrows were scorched too.  But there was no real damage and we all lived.  Bill had to go out and find Tinker though.

Those were the good old days all right.

But things got worse.

I was pregnant when we moved to Big Oak Flat near Yosemite Park. There was a gas station and a post office.  That was it.  The nearest town/drugstore/cleaners/hospital was over two hours away.  No diaper service and nobody ever heard of pampers in those good old days.

It wasn’t a shack we lived in but a house that had been moved from somewhere else and stood on cement blocks.  There were cracks in the floor wide enough to see flash floods rushing along underneath.   The cracks let in cold drafts too.

Bill at Big Oak Flat House on Cement Blocks

Bill at Big Oak Flat House on Cement Blocks

The water in the shower started off orange.  There was a frog in the shower once. Imagine my naked reaction to THAT!

And the doctor in Sonora told me he would not drive the 2 hours “up the hill” to deliver the baby.

“I need to go home,” I wailed.  I could not imagine birthing a child in such circumstances.  So Bill sent me home.  But once home I could not imagine having the baby without Bill there so I went back (Poor Bill).  Our son was born at the bottom of the hill in a small hospital and there were no mishaps. The only problem was it was going on winter.

I hung Corky’s cloth diapers on a line and they froze.  Then he got a recurring rash which I later learned was from me bleaching his diapers.

Or how about the time there was a blizzard and the heat went off!  This muttering mother trudged a mile (well, not really a mile) carrying a wrapped up infant through a blizzard to the landlady’s house.  Before you issue condolences, I may be slightly exaggerating.  It was a snow storm though and I did have to leave that freezing house to get help.

Bill and I roamed a few more months around the wilderness with our new son.  Everything we owned was packed into a Dodge station wagon, and again I cried.

“We need to have a home!  We need roots! We have a child now.  We have responsibilities!”

And so it was we returned to the city dwellers’ life.

Looking back in time, those Wilderness Days were our “Salad Days” of adventure, the good times, the young years, the experiences that left us with stories to tell.

Those years had so much impact  that I now think of them as a rehearsal for our eventual big move to country living in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia (where we are now) with other stories to tell.

But I often think that if only I had known then what I know now, I would never have needed to go home.

 

 

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Beautiful Noche Good One

My niece lives in the city.

“How does your dog get exercise?”  I asked.

“We walk together and she is always on a leash,” said Judi.

I live in rural Virginia – in a place where the land stretches unbothered by human clutter for many acres, first over a sunny hillside and then through a forest primeval.  Bill keeps a wide swath open by clearing fallen trees and limbs and even mowing with his big tractor, where mowing is possible.

We once shared our home with other beloved critters who roamed this path, and Bill even built a little bench where we could sit and listen to the birds sing.  The critters (all the dogs and horses) lived long but have long since gone.  The last was Rozie the rescue dog we lost in October.

We are without critters now and missing them all, sometimes still crying.

Then Judi called.

She asked if we would consider taking care of her German Shepherd, Noche, for two weeks.

Of course Noche is here now!  And her first day walk was free!

No leash.  No collar.  No restraints.

The land, the forest, and the hill top were all hers!

And she ran high speed, body outstretched, like a jaguar in full gear,

And sprinted just far enough ahead to keep us in sight, then stopped and waited.

“Is this o.k.?” she seemed to ask.  “Why aren’t you running too?”

And off she would go again dashing, leaping, almost flying with an observable exuberance, bounding across the hillside and through the woods.  My laughter covered a kind of swelling irrepressible joy in my heart.  Her leaping and sprinting shouted a doggie cry of “Look at me!  I’m running free!”

Tonight Noche is relaxed snuggled up on her bed at the foot of my bed.  She is mellow after a good dinner.

Noche Abed 2

 I hope she knows that here lies safety, warmth and love.

 I hope she is reliving her adventure running wildly unleashed in a dream come true.

And I hope she thinks this is a doggie spa where tomorrow she can once again run free.

Am I dog sitting?

What do you think?

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