THE PIZZA BAKING SHEET

When I lived in Eugene from 1991 to 2000 I had a round aluminum pizza baking sheet.    I believe it was past down from the years of my first marriage.   Over the years it became dented and beat up from much use, even turning black.   Most the pizzas baked on it were home made using BOBOLI Pizza Crust.  Toppings consisted of using left over veggies or whatever else looked good from depths of the refrigerator.   Luckily I don't remember anybody ever getting sick from the toppings that may have been used a little beyond their expiration dates.  Every time the baked pizza was cut using a round pizza cutter more dents appeared in the baking sheet.    My daughter had a friend that occasionally ate dinner with us including a few pizzas.   On one occasion the friend asked, "is that a hub cap you bake those pizzas on?"  

MY DOG JACK

It was a late November afternoon in 1989 when I was about ready to leave work at the Cottage Grove Ranger District office and go home to a little house I rented on Lynx Hollow Road north of Cottage Grove.   No sooner than I started packing up my things to head out the door when a woman that worked on the road maintenance crew came up to me asking if I would take a puppy they picked up walking along a forest road where it was beginning to snow.   She knew I had just put my old family dog Corky to sleep because of health issues.   She said she could not take the dog because they already had some dogs.    So I went home with the little black puppy that looked more like a cub bear that I named Jack.

There was a storage room in the back of the house where I left Jack during the day with food, water and a partially opened window as I went off to work.   When I came home at night I let Jack out in the back yard and he had free range in the house at night.   One wall of the storage room had unpacked boxes of items from the house I sold in Gold Beach in 1988.   After a few weeks I noticed Jack was in a corner of the storage room as if something had been bothering him during the day.  One day I saw a wild cat jump in through the opened window and discovered she had a litter of kittens in one of the boxes.   Jack had become accustomed to this wild cat coming and going as she raised her kittens.   Later I discovered the after birth in the box where she had the litter.   The wild cat and her kittens left the house to live in the barn behind the house and roam the nearby fields for rats or other small varmints.   In 1991 I bought a house in south Eugene in order to allow my two children to live with me on a part-time basis while they were in high school and their mother was considering moving out of the area.   Jack was two years old and I constructed a fenced yard with a dog house where he stayed when I was working in Cottage Grove.  Over the next few years Jack went on many hikes, backpacking trips and in the Fall of 1997 went on a  cross country car trip with me to visit a sister living in Indiana.    When Celia and I bought a house in Cottage Grove and got married in 2000 Jack became part of the family.   Jack was susceptible to seizures and in 2005 we had to send him over the Rainbow Bridge due to failing health.  

      

THE BUS ISSUE

The Lane Transit District (LTD) went as far south of Eugene as Creswell in the 1990's.  Some people in Cottage Grove car pooled to Creswell to catch the bus into Eugene, mostly students attending Lane Community College or the University of Oregon and some people working in Eugene not wanting to deal with parking problems.   The business community of Cottage Grove was against extending the district to Cottage Grove in fear that people would do more shopping in Eugene, plus they did not want to pay the .05% business tax to support the bus.    The issue was put to the voters of Cottage Grove and the business community campaigned against it telling voters they would be taxed and how business would decline locally with people doing more shopping in Eugene.   At the time LTD had routes to McKenzie Bridge, 50 miles up the McKenzie River Highway, Junction City and Veneta all supported by local businesses along those routes.   Finally the voters approved extending the transit district to Cottage Grove.   In the end nobody went out of business and there was no space taken up in the bus by shoppers bringing sheets of plywood, yard equipment, appliances or furniture back from Eugene on the bus.   Just passengers with their back packs, brief cases and lunch bags.  

THE RESTAURANTS OF EUGENE

When I lived in Eugene from 1991 to 2000 on East 26th Avenue, just a block off south Willamette Street, I could smell the different foods being cooked in a variety of restaurants up and down Willamette Street.   Depending on which way the wind was blowing  I could smell the grease from McDonalds a few blocks to the south or the smell of pastries from the bakery to the north.   It was very tempting in the evenings to just let my nose lead me down the street to whatever appealed the most.   There was everything from fast foods, pizzas, Italian, Mexican, Thai and the Glenwood restaurant serving American dishes, especially a good place for breakfast.   The Italian place was within a block and every Tuesday night it was all you could eat spaghetti night for the price of the first plate.    One of my favorites was a Korean place in the corner of the Payless Drug Store, which is gone now and replaced with a Market of Choice.   It was operated by a Korean family serving very authentic dishes and spicy.   Sometime after meeting Celia in November of 1997 we went to the Korean restaurant along with my son.   Celia decided to put some hot sauce on her dish and started violently coughing.   We had to pour water down her to quench the cough.   In the years that followed I think we ate at almost every restaurant in Eugene.  One of our favorites was the 19th Street Grill, which was close to where she worked at the Olum Child Development Center on the U of O campus.  It is now a McMenamins restaurant and on a few of our trips back to Eugene over the 20 years of our marriage we would stop at what we still called the 19th Street Grill and reminisce about our early days.  .   

         

SPRING RAIN

Whatever happened to those spring rain storms of the past?   In the 1980's and 90's I can remember heavy rain storms on my drive back home from Cottage Grove to Eugene.  Sometimes you could hardly see the highway with the wind shield wipers going full blast.  This would continue up until the 4th of July, then summer would begin with less frequent rain until the middle of October.   Now the rain tapers off quickly after March.   At our place in Douglas County the 30 year average for March is 4.24 inches.  So far for this March we have received less than an inch (0.77) and spring officially doesn't start for another week.  Hopefully the weather man is correct about his forecast for a wet spring.  

Water is our greatest resource and good quality water is disappearing fast.   Like Ben Franklin said in Poor Richard's Almanac, "When the well is dry, we learn the worth of water."

City Life vs Country Life

 

Eugene was the biggest city I ever lived in from 1991 to 2000.  My house was a block off Willamette Street, the main street running north and south through the city.    The noise of the traffic was constant, but one gets used to it with time.   Everything I needed was within walking distance, including a market, bakery, a few restaurants, taverns, banks, even my dentists.  Neighbors were an assortment of different types of folks.   John and Lori across the street became good friends.    Other neighbors ranged from social misfits to renters that would come and go.    Crime was an issue.  I had a bike stolen, somebody at night broke through my back gate and there was the fear of someone knocking on the front door at odd hours of the day.   There were people asking for handouts, sales people, and activists wanting to change the world.   Some people that stood out included a woman selling a cleaning solution.  She came in the house and cleaned my stove with it to show me how good it was.   After that I did buy a bottle of it.  There were university students selling a vacuum cleaner and demonstrated how good it was on my dirty rug.   Did not buy it since it was too expensive and that was the only rug I had in the house.  One of the most interesting encounters was with a man in a wheelchair that saw me working outside and asked if I had any old carpet pieces.   After telling him I had some in the garage he got up out of the wheelchair to take a look.

 

Where we live in the country now is the most isolated place we have ever lived.   It is very quiet, except for the distant sound of the train whistle in the valley or the sound of traffic on I-5 six miles away when weather conditions are right.  

Most of our neighbors are friendly and we help each other out whenever necessary.   Sharing the expense of road maintenance has been a problem causing conflict with some neighbors.   There is the fear of being burned out from wildfire in the summer and the fear of a big snow storm in the winter causing power outages and the challenge of keeping the road open down to the highway.   So far we have not had a crime problem, but have been suspicious of strangers driving up our road.   A few of our neighbors have enough weapons to fight a war and heaven help those that might have bad intentions of doing harm to them.   Most of all we don't miss the city traffic.    We never see any sales people, but sure would not mind seeing the woman with the cleaning solution again, and let her demonstrate how well it works on our stove.    

A Christmas Story

 This story I have shared over the years, so it might be a repeat for some.   At the time I was working for Jenny's and Company, a property management company in Eugene in the Fall of 1995 to make ends meet after leaving the Forest Service in the March of 1995.  

Merry Christmas!

It was the week before Christmas of 1995 as a co-worker and I were cleaning up a parking garage under an apartment building in Eugene.    There were three homeless men taking shelter there from the cold damp weather next to the dumpster and under the influence of some Christmas cheer.    It was customary for me to wear old work clothes for this job and there were days when I did not shave, this was one of those days.   As I approached the dumpster to empty a bucket of trash, one of the men informed me there was nothing of any value there since they had already looked.   Another man, with a quart of beer in his hand asked me where I was spending my nights since the mission was full.   Before I could answer, he offered me some refreshment and said I was welcome to spend nights in a storm drain where they stayed.   I tried to inform them that I was going south in a few days to be with family for the holidays.   Not really hearing me, one of them said it was not a good time of year to ride the freight trains because of the danger associated with cold weather.   With that, I thanked them for their advice and wished them well.  They wished me peace and warmth in my travels. 

Writing

 Writing is a hobby for me.   The more I write the more I remember, might be a good way to keep the old brain in good working order.   I took up writing in the 1990's while living in Eugene where I enrolled in some non-credit writing classes at Lane Community College.    These classes were at night and most of the students were working adults wanting to write their life story.  What most of us had in common was that we barely made it through high school English.

In my advancing years I find it entertaining to reflect back on life, even laugh at myself and wonder how I ever made it this far.  Looking forward under present day circumstances can cause anxiety not knowing what tomorrow will bring.  In many ways writing is a way for me to escape reality sometimes.  Some authors that have influenced me are Edward Abbey, some retired Forest Service people that have written about their careers, the local author Robert Heilman with his book, Overstory Zero and a few others.    

Soon this pandemic will become part of history and we can feel safe again to return to whatever kind of life we think is a resemblance of normal.   In the meantime I will think of more to write.  

Mike

ps--thanks for the stories you have shared

The search for Home

 After hanging out together for three years Celia and I decided to get married and the date was set for October 7, 2000.   The big question was where were we going to live?   Her house in Cottage Grove and my house in Eugene were out of the question since both were too small.   We both had our criteria in what we wanted in a house.   Celia visualized a white picket fence, roses growing over the front door and the basic amenities to make life comfortable.  A few things men do not give much thought to.  I was more interested in a garage or outbuilding where I could work on my power equipment, have all my tools and do what men have to do, basically things women do not understand.   We both had common ground in wanting some space for a garden.

Our search went as far south as Douglas County, as far west as Veneta and north to Harrisburg and Junction City in Lane County.  Some houses looked good, but no garage, others were in need of some repairs, some too expensive and a few in bad locations.  We even looked around Eugene and Cottage Grove, but nothing met our criteria.  Then we made a trip to Wallowa County in the northeast corner of Oregon.  This is beautiful country with the Wallowa Mountains, valleys and Hell’s Canyon.  We stayed in the town of Joseph for three days looking at houses in the area, including a trip to Imnaha on the edge of the Hell’s Canyon with a population of 50.   The down side to living here was the long cold winters, a short growing season and the thought that our children would never come visit us.   At this point I was getting discouraged, but Celia kept looking.   One night she called me about a house she saw on the west side of Cottage Grove.   She wanted to make an appointment to look at it and wanted me to come along.  I reluctantly agreed.    The house had an attached garage, had been remodeled, in a quiet part of town, reasonably priced and the best part it had a work shop in the back yard along with with enough space for a garden.  As we departed the house I noticed a mail slot by the front door and thought how convenient.    We started walking toward the car and I turned to Celia and said, “let’s buy it”.  She was stunned!

Working on a Grass Seed Farm 1996-2000

 In the winter of 1996 I enrolled at Lane Community College near Eugene and took a course of study in Agricultural and Industrial Equipment Technology.   After completing two terms I received a certificate in Diesel Electrical Systems.  An alumni of the course, who was a shop foreman on a grass seed farm out of Harrisburg asked the teacher if any students would be interested in a seasonal job.   I raised my hand and the job was offered to me.   Basically I became the chief grease monkey operating a service truck and running from field to field each morning servicing farm equipment.   This work consisted of filling fuel tanks, checking oil levels, greasing the machines, blowing out radiators and air filters.  Don’t remember doing much electrical work.  Shop work was more of the same working on fork lifts, trucks, machinery in the warehouse and running into Harrisburg for parts once or twice a week.   Most of the equipment was operated by local high school students.   Whenever one of them did not show up in the morning or have to leave before the end of the day it was me that replaced them in the cab of a combine.   This was monotonous work going round and around with four other combines equipped with pickup headers going wherever the windrows took us.    The north wind would be blowing and the dust would follow us, sometimes going ahead of the machine where we could not see much beyond the cab.    By late afternoon my eyelids would start getting heavy and the fear of falling asleep would overtake me, even with the a/c and radio going.   Sometimes I would have to slap myself to stay awake in fear of the combine wandering off course and going in some nearby ditch.    The days were long, 10 to 14 hours depending on the air moisture in the evenings.   At the end of the day there would be some trucks filled grass seed that had to be driven back to the warehouse and emptied.   It would be 10 or 11 pm some nights when I got back home in Eugene.   The next day I would be up and gone by 7 am to beat the rush hour traffic.   My lunch box had enough food for lunch and dinner.   Sunday night dinners were provided by the farm consisting of a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and all the side dishes for those working that day.    It was delivered out in the field to each combine or tractor operator to eat while working.   I definitely don’t care for that stuff anymore.  By mid-August most combine work was done and all hands had to operate a tractor to work the fields in preparation for seeding next year’s crop.   Burning of grass seed straw was no longer permitted and the straw had to be worked back into the ground by plowing, disking, and harrowing until the soil was almost turned into to dust.  This work would end each day by 5 pm and usually completed by end of September when I was laid off for the season.   There was no overtime for this work and during periods of rain the crew was laid off until things dried out, sometimes for up to a week.  If we worked the entire season until we got laid off we received a bonus check near Christmas time.  

I continued doing this job for the next four summers.   One morning in August of 2000, while driving north on I-5 to the farm I missed the Harrisburg turnoff and did not realize it until I saw the sign for the Brownsville Exist.   It was time to call it quits, plus Celia and I were getting ready to move into our house in Cottage Grove and get married in October.    I could not imagine adding another 20 miles to the daily commute.    No bonus check was received that year.

The Gardening Story

 Gardening has always been a big part of my life.  Of all the places I have lived I would scratch out some kind of garden plot.   When we lived in Greenville, California we purchased a 7 horse power Troy-Built rototiller in 1977, to till a fenced garden plot that was next to the old ranch house we rented.   After moving into a government house on the Gold Beach Ranger Station in 1979 the tiller came with us, but we were not allowed to develop a garden plot since the station was on the National Historical Register as it had been constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corp or CCC.   A few month after our arrival some friends let us garden on their property outside of town.   In 1981 we bought our first house on two acres along Hunter Creek, two miles south of Gold Beach.    Here we had a big garden, chickens, a sheep for wool, a goat for milk and a fixer-upper house with all its never ending repair projects.   As if I did not have enough to do, there were weekends I helped neighbors and friends with tilling their gardens.   In the fall of 1986 my wife and two children moved to Eugene where she attended the University of Oregon.   In 1988 I was offered a job with the Forest Service in Cottage Grove to be closer to family and rented a house on Lynx Hollow Road where I developed a small garden.    Shortly thereafter the Gold Beach house was sold.  In 1990 my wife and I went our separate ways with a divorce and in order to have my children live with me on a part-time basis I bought a small house in Eugene in 1991 where they were attending school.   Here I developed a blueberry patch that the neighbors and a few homeless people enjoyed who were living in the nearby ash tree swamp along Amazon Creek in South Eugene.  

When I left the Forest Service in March of 1995 a co-worker, who had an artistic talent for drawing, made me a cartoon advertisement which included my phone number and a sketch of me and my dog Jack rototilling.  I hung the poster up at the Oasis Market on Willamette Street in Eugene and the phone started ringing with job offers.   People started telling their friends and neighbors of my rototilling service and at times the phone was ringing off the hook.   Some of those people asked if I would do other work, such as pruning, hauling garden soil, hauling yard debris, building fences, painting, repairing lawn mowers or other power equipment.  There was one woman who wanted me to teach her husband how to do gardening work.   He seemed to be more content watching TV and drinking beer.  Another woman with a plot at a community garden hired me to rototill after dark by the headlights of her pickup.    Then there was the woman with many cats on leashes in her back yard that would hire me once a year to haul a pallet of cat food from a store in North Eugene and help her unload it in her garage.   One of the most colorful clients was an older woman that was always in her bathrobe that wanted to be called Grandma.   I did a variety of work for her from rototilling, cutting blackberries and removing a Willow tree that had fallen in her yard.   When it came time to pay me she would always add a large bonus from a big roll of cash she had in her house.    I tried to refuse the extra money, but she would reply, “never argue with Grandma”.  There was a woman who wanted to sell me her 8 horse power Troy-Built tiller at a cheap price and I bought it thinking it might come in handy when the other one broke down.     All my equipment was hauled around Eugene and Springfield in my old rusty 1975 Ford pickup.    The bolts holding the bed to the frame were so badly rusted out I feared losing it all on some busy intersection, luckily it never happened.

In 1997 I bought a DR Brush mower and took on brush and high grass mowing jobs, many located in the hills south of Eugene.   Some of these elegant homes had acreage with forest land and private driveways in need of vegetation clearing.   A few of these land owners asked me to estimate the value of their timber.   After deducting logging costs from the market value of the logs and adding the expense for cleaning up the mess or logging slash there was little return to the land owners. 

One of the better paying jobs was with the University of Oregon Housing Department that would hire me to do chainsaw work on hazard trees and brush mowing around houses they owned east of the campus.   There was no bidding required.  The housing manger would call me, show me what had to be done and paid me whatever I billed them, no questions asked.    

Most of this gardening work was seasonal from March into June and by fall the phone calls were far and few between.   In the fall of 1996 I enrolled at Lane Community College and studied Agricultural and Industrial Equipment Technology taking courses over four terms in electrical systems, hydraulics, welding and engine repair.   Except for a welding class two nights a week all other classes started at 7am and were out by noon giving me the afternoons to schedule any calls for work. 

Under an apprenticeship program with this class it landed me a seasonal job from June through September from 1996 to 2000 as a mechanic and equipment operator on a grass seed farm near Harrisburg.    Whenever summer rains shut down operations on the farm for a few days I would catch up on a few gardening jobs in and around Eugene. 

In November of 1997 I met Celia, who was working for the Olum Child Care Center at the University of Oregon.   By the spring of 1998 she was helping me with gardening jobs on weekends and enrolled in the OSU Master Gardeners Program.   Thereafter she became a partner and the brains of the outfit we called C & M Gardening Service, a business registered with the Oregon Secretary of State which we operated together until we moved to our property outside of Oakland, Oregon in 2006 when we officially retired.   By the way we also got married in October of 2000 and bought a house in Cottage Grove.