SILENCE

Sometimes silence can be my best friend.   One of the first things I do in the morning is turn the radio on to get the latest news and weather report.   After about an hour of hearing all the negative things humanity is inflicting upon it's self it's time to turn it off.    Just the sound of the wind, rain, birds and the frogs at night can be enough for me.   A trip to the city with all the traffic, construction, and other noises makes me just want to get back home ASAP.   

I will never forget when Celia and I were in Costco years ago when she was getting a hearing test when an older man left his hearing aids off to have them cleaned.   As he walked off to do some shopping he said out loud--SILENCE AT LAST!

GARDENING 2024

With the recent warm weather and a break from all the rain the urge to dig in the dirt and plant a few seeds takes a hold of me.   Something in my DNA I guess that always kicks in this time of year.   In my younger years I always planned to have the perfect garden or at least better than what I had the year before--weed free, perfect rows and a bumper crop of veggies, which was usually zucchinis.    Not anymore as perfect is no longer in my vocabulary, now I just take a shovel, turn over the muddy ground, weeds and all, put seeds in the ground hoping for the best.   Peas are the first seeds I stick in the ground as the Stellar Jays sit in the nearby tree looking down on me.  I know what they saying to each other, "hay, look at the human down there sticking those seeds in the ground for us to go dig up for our dinner later when he is gone."    Even putting chicken wire over the newly planted seeds for protection is no deterrent as the next day I see it has been removed.    Maybe they get together with their rat friends during the night to help remove the wire and share in the bounty.   One year I noticed something was eating my climbing string beans.  I placed a motion camera out one night to see what varmint was guilty.   The next day it showed a mouse up the bean stock chewing on a green bean.   At the end of the day my back hurts, my hands are dirty, my boots muddy and best of all, I will have the opportunity to do it all again tomorrow if the weather permits.   

MOHS SURGERY

 My appointment was at 9 am on Monday to have skin cancer, the size of a dime removed from my lower right leg.  The biopsy, taken a month earlier, showed it to be basal cell cancer.   After checking in at the front desk of the Advanced Skin Center in Roseburg, I was instructed to wait in the second waiting room until my name was called.   Most the patients in the waiting room were old men, some with bandages on their noses, faces, arms and God knows where else.   It looked like a room filled with the walking wounded.   Mohs surgery involves cutting out the tissue with cancer, having it examined by the pathologist and if the edges of the tissue is free of cancer cells they stitch you up.   If it is not clear of cancer cells more cutting is performed until it become clear.  Some people could be in here all day.   I have been through this procedure before and never had to go back for a second cutting.  Medical staff personnel walked through the waiting room carrying towels, garments and other medical supplies.  Soon a young woman, who was a  medical assistant appeared calling out a name.   Not getting a response she yelled out the name and an elderly man responded and off he went following the young woman.   I got the impression some of these gentlemen had a hearing problem in addition to skin cancer.   After waiting a half hour my name Mike was called out, and off I went to an examination room where the medical assistant introduced herself, asked a few question and proceeded to injecting a numbing substance around the area that would be removed.  After a couple minutes she poked around the area asking if I could feel anything?   It was totally numbed and off she went to get the surgeon.   The surgeon looked like a man that had been up most the night, in desperate need of coffee with those big telescope lenses fasten to his glasses, like the ones a dentist wears.   He was a man of few words as he put on rubber gloves, picked up a scalpel and quickly did his business placing the chunk of flesh in a glass container the medical assistant was holding.   As he left the room he told me it would be an hour before he would have the pathology results done.   I asked the medical assistant if he was the pathologist too, and she replied yes.   He was a busy man and no wonder he looked tired.    The medical assistant applied a pressure bandage to my wound after cauterizing it to stop the bleeding and took me back out to the waiting room.  

While sitting in the waiting room for the results, an older couple sat down next to me.  The man told me they had come all way that morning from Port Orford on the Oregon Coast.   We got to talking as he told me they lived up Elk River, which I was very familiar with when I worked for the Forest Service in Gold Beach back in the 1980's.   He mentioned a few names of people that I had known including some loggers.   Soon his name was called and off he went.  Then another man sat next to me asking if he was in the right room.  I asked what he was here for and he did not seem to know.   He had come from Cottage Grove and said he had been here before to have something on his face looked at.   As we were talking I heard a man call out William, my first name which I usually don't respond too.  Everybody looked around as nobody responded, until I asked what is the last name and he said Burke, and off we went to another section of the facility where I was told to my relief the tissue was clear of cancer.  Here I was stitched up and a large compression bandage was applied from my knee down to my foot to keep the leg from swelling.  I was instructed to keep the leg elevated for a few days and not to get the bandage wet for week.   A real challenge for taking a shower.   After going to the front desk for scheduling appointments for the bandage removal in a week and in two weeks for the stitches to be removed, I walked out the front door with a new lease on life or at least until next July, when I'm scheduled for my six month full body exam.   I still wonder if that man from Cottage Grove ever found out what he was there for?     

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?"  

THE ASHLAND POET

Every year during the week after Christmas my family gets together in Ashland for a few days to celebrate the holidays.  My son and his family come up from South Lake Tahoe, my daughter and her family come down from Portland and their mother comes down from Salem.   One evening this year my son, his wife and grandson Connor were kicking a soccer ball in the park near the center of the city.  I was off to the side watching when a young woman walked by me asking how I was doing?   She may have been 40, well dressed and did not look homeless.   She was carry a bag of poems and asked if I would want to buy one as she was trying to collect enough money to buy a pizza for her boyfriend and her self.  I became a little suspicious, but I asked her to read one.   The poems were written on brown paper that I think was cut from brown paper bags.   She took one of the poems from the bag and recited to me.   As she started it reminded me of my loss of Celia and brought tears to my eyes.  I don't recall all of it, but it started out--searching in solace for what we've all lost.  Not hearing those haunting sounds, not alone in our souls...  I do have the little brown papers of the poems but find it hard to read.   I told her it reminded me of the loss of my wife, she was very sympathetic and gave me a second poem.  I gave her $20 in hopes she would buy the pizza and hopefully not drugs as she walked off.    In some ways she made my day and I hope I contributed to hers'.  

 

BLACKOUT

Last night I was sitting in my chair reading on a stormy night.   About 7:30pm the light flickered and a few seconds later the lights were out.   It was pitch black as I sat in the chair knowing the flash light was on the table by the bed in the next room.   I don't recall such blackness, not a glow of light anywhere.   It was like having my eyes closed.   I slowly made my way toward the bedroom with arms stretched out feeling for furniture and the walls.  I made it to the bedroom door, then to the bed feeling my way to the bed side table where I turned on the flashlight.   After lighting some candles my neighbors called to ask if my power was out as they had lost power also.    Later we learned most of the northern portion of Douglas County was without power due to storm damage to the BPA transmission line to the north somewhere.    After receiving some text messages about the situation I retired to bed thinking how unprepared I am for a long term power outage; dirty diches in the kitchen, have not started the generator in the last year, camp stove somewhere in the shop and way too dark to deal with any of it on a stormy dark night.   My biggest fear--how would I ever make coffee in the morning?   At 9:30 the lights came back on and I could rest easy knowing I would not have to boil water on the wood stove in the morning for that precious cup of coffee.   

BROWN AND SERVE ROLLS

Remember brown and serve rolls?   I believe they are still available in the stores.  Originally they may have been produced by Wonder Bread back in the 1950's, just guessing on that.   I'm sure some of you remember Wonder Bread, the good old white bread with our bologna sandwiches.

My mother always had these rolls available for Sunday night dinners or during the holidays.    After she spent a good part of an afternoon preparing a big meal for whatever the occasion was she would place the rolls on a baking sheet and in the oven they went after she had  put the food on the table and trying to round up us six kids.   My dad usually had a big chunk of  beef of some sort on the barbecue and would bring it in the house as we all sat down to eat.   Soon we could smell those brown and serve rolls burning in the oven as mom ran into the kitchen to salvage what she could.    The tops of the rolls were black and mom would make the best out of what was not burnt.   This happened on a few occasions and became known as the Black and Serve Rolls.  

THE HOLIDAY FOG

 Lately the fog has been formidable.   The other night I was visiting with friends in Oakland.    It was about 9 pm when I started my way home through dense fog.   Oakland is a small town with most of its streets going north and south and east and west.    My intended route home was to take a street west turn north on old highway 99, cross the Calapooya Creek bridge and take the Green Valley Road home.   At this time of night there is never any traffic on this route so it is considered a safe drive.    Driving west in Oakland I somehow missed seeing the stop sign where I would turn north on highway 99 and ended up on a dead end gravel road near the railroad tracks.    While turning around I had the fear of getting stuck not knowing what the ground was like off of this little gravel road.   Miraculously I made it to highway 99 and it took a half hour to finally get home through the dense fog.   When I arrived home I discovered my black cat was on the roof .  I had left the ladder up on the deck to apply moss killer and the cat had climbed it but would not come back down without my assistance.   After putting gloves on and climbing the ladder I grabbed the cat and got her down without a catastrophe.   Felt like a survivor at the end of this day. 

CHRISTMAS 2023

The holiday season can be a time of despair and loneliness for those of us without family close by and the loss of a loved one.   We think the sooner it's over the better off we will feel.    Then those Christmas cards and letters start arriving from friends and family members far and near telling of their joys and sorrows over the past year.  Some have suffered health problems or loss of a loved one also.    This makes me feel not so alone and the need to reach out.   We all are so wrapped up in our own worlds, fighting our own battles that we can't see through the fog of our own despair what our neighbors, friends and family members are going through.   Maybe if we all reached out to each other there would be more hope in the world and less hatred, anger, injustice and war.   Without hope there can be no peace.  

Merry Christmas!

A THANKFUL OLD MAN

This is a short version of a story I read and can relate to.  It happened during the Great Depression when money and food were scarce.   I don't know who the author is.

The old man and his dog sat by the fire in his cabin on a cold Thanksgiving night.   His wife had passed away recently and loneliness now filled most of his life.    He had lost his faith and did not give much thought to a Thanksgiving dinner.   He thought about baking some sweet potatoes with biscuits for dinner as he had some stored in his root cellar along with some onions and carrots.    There was a knock on his door.  It was the two neighbor boys asking to come in and get warm by the fire.   They told the old man he was invited over to their house for dinner if he could bring some of his sweet potatoes as they had very little food, except some chickens and greens.   He had the boys fill a bucket with the potatoes and they took off for home telling the old man he did not need to dress up as none of them would be.    The old man did put on a clean shirt on with his overalls, put a jacket and hat on before walking through the woods for about a mile to the neighbor's cabin.   When he entered the cabin there was the pleasant smell of food cooking.  During the dinner there was pleasant conversation and the boy's father reminded the old man they had not forgot how he helped them move some firewood a few months earlier.   The father also told the old man he was welcome to have some of their hen chickens as they could not afford to feed all of them.   The old man started home with a large gunny sack containing the hens as he made his way through the woods.   He got to thinking how he could sell some of the eggs in town for cash.   While walking on this clear cold night he looked up to see a full moon and became thankful for what he had as he started regaining some of his faith.  

BEING THANKFUL AT COSTCO

It was the day before Thanksgiving as I made my way through Costco in hopes of purchasing a pumpkin pie.  As I made my way through the crowd I could feel the holiday cheer with all the people trying to get through the aisles in hopes of filling their carts.   As I approached the pie coolers it was standing room only as a baker had a cart with trays of pies as he was trying to unload them into the cooler.  We all grabbed one making a dash for the checkout counters where the lines went back through the store aisles.  The person ahead of me must have had 500 items in his cart as I waited to pay for the pie.   Once outside I was thankful for surviving the ordeal and having the pie at a cost of $5.99, probably should have got two of them, but did not want to be greedy.  

Happy Thanksgiving! 

GRANDSON SAM AND HIS HALLOWEEN CANDY

 After collecting his Halloween candy from hitting the streets of his neighborhood, Sam became sick for a few days and did not have a desire to eat any of it, so his parents set it aside.    While Sam was recovering his parent sampled a few pieces of his candy thinking he would not notice what was missing when he felt better.   When Sam did feel better he asked for his candy and sure enough he noticed there was some missing pieces and asked where they were.  His mother had to confess.   Sam became a little upset and with a parental tone told his mother they should have asked him first before doing what they did.  Not bad for a four and a half year old-right?  

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.  

      

FALL 2023

We are blessed with rain this week after a brutal hot dry summer.   It was last April when I received substantial rainfall for that month with 5.12 inches.   Since May 1 to date I have recorded only 2.19 inches.   Presently I'm 6.36 inches behind on annual rainfall of 42.31 inches.   

I always feel like a survivor after making it through the summer without getting burned out.   With the change in seasons comes the usual change in the daily chores and preparation for winter.   Yesterday I rolled up the many hoses around the house used to water plants and that provide water to the sprinklers on the roof  in case of a fire.   In the afternoon I cleaned out the chimney and today cleaned out the woodstove. The 500 gallon water tank that collects water from the shop roof was almost full so pumped that water up to the house tamk.   Only had to order two truck loads of water this summer.     

With El Nino in effect  there is a lower snowpack and lower rainfall predicted for the northwest.    Sometimes the opposite happens, like last year it was a La Nina and most the rain and snow went south into California when it was predicted to come to the northwest.    The Farmers Almanac predicts a hard winter.    I guess we will find out one way or the other.