As The Butter Churns

November 9th Nothing Beats A Full House

(Little Sam Horner, 5, and Irish)

    Laughter and shrieking filled the house as Team Donaldson arrived with old neighbors: Liza (6th grade), Audrey (3rd grade) and Sam Horner (kindergarten). Over the years our families have spent a lot of time together for birthday parties, sleepovers, Thanksgivings, Christmases and many Easter egg hunts. Of course, there were hugs and kisses all around. Audrey got a little more than she bargained for when Vivian Irene Rottweiler planted a big wet one right on her cheek. A moment later Irish rushed past Sam, knocking him flat on the wood floor as he went by. Sam went down like one of those plastic clowns you punch, which hits the ground and immediately bounces back up.

    “Are you ok?” Lisa asked.

    “Yeah,” Sam replied, non-plussed, as he got up and resumed looking at the jukebox.

    Despite the rain, it wasn’t long before children were darting everywhere. To the barn to meet the goats! To the side yard to see the geese! To the pasture to feed the cows! Then to the pond on the tractor! Nervous about predators, I wanted them to take an air horn with them to make noise, but I laughed as they reached the pond and I could still hear every word they yelled to each other. They were safe.
(Quinn, Sam, Phoebe and Liza in the bucket. Henry is driving and Audrey is screaming)

    While they were gone, we went about our plan to set up the Cider Press. We'd gotten it for Fort Flashback. It was a common colonial item and we thought kids would enjoy seeing how cider was made. Cider is produced by crushing apples. It is 90% apple - if it contains more water than that it is called apple juice.

    So Lisa, Alexis, Chris and I picked apples and began wiping down the Cider Press. Lisa and Alexis chopped the apples, making sure they were worm-free. (Lisa and Alexis -  chopping machines)

    When all the kids returned, they shoved handfuls of apple chunks into the grinder until the bucket was full. Audrey was in charge of making sure the apples were firmly packed down. After all, we wanted as much cider as possible. Wayne wandered in from watching football and sat down. Contentedly, I looked around. It was if everything was in slow motion, girls giggling, men talking, boys shoving, dogs barking, football blaring. Lisa was chopping, and it was perfect. It’s moments like these that are magical. Ordinary moments.

     It was then that my father entered the room. No, he isn’t back from Paris, but he was channeling across the continents through his grandson. It seems Sam asked Henry whose cool horn was by the music stand - and chaos ensued. Henry walked into the room and began practicing a barely recognizable version of “Jingle Bells” he’s quite proud of. I thought Lisa was going to have a breakdown.
(Wayne & Chris look on as Henry carries on a family tradition and Sam cuts up)

    “Make him stop. He’s just like his grandfather, playing that thing in the middle of enough noise. I just can’t take the playing.”
(Quinn watching Henry add to the chaos. Phoebe working hard)

   “And he’s not as good as his grandfather,” Wayne interjected.

   “That’s not it,” Lisa said. “It’s not how he’s playing; it’s that he’s playing.”

   “Don’t discourage him from playing. Ever,” Chris shushed her. 

   "Ever?"

   "Ever," Chris repeated.

" (Liza, Phoebe and Audrey cider pressing)
  (Henry crushes some apples and Sam watches, with Chris's assistance, as Liza fills the grinder)
(Sam gives it a try)
(Liza working for the cider) (Cider at last!)

   When the pressing began, everyone took turns but, as the press squeezed downward, the turning got increasingly difficult until only The Amazing Chris Donaldson remained.

   When everyone had their fill of freshly pressed cider, the games continued. Jedi Knights dueled in the yard and climbed ropes to show their strength
. (Jedi Knights - Henry and Sam)

   “Sam, if you can climb this rope then you can be a Jedi Knight.”

   “It’s too hard,” Sam complained.
(Sam struggles)

    “If it were easy, everyone would be a Jedi,” Henry explained reasonably. Sam looked around and found a step stool. Stood on it. Jumped up. And grabbed the rope. Gleeful at having bested the master.
(Sam and his step stool)
   “That’s cheating,” Henry accused.

   “That’s right,” Sam said.

   Meanwhile, back in the kitchen Quinn struggled to interpret the Rice Crispy Treat recipe as the other girls hounded her to hurry up. After spaghetti and meatballs the girls settled in for the movie “Harry and the Hendersons” or, as it is commonly known in our home, “Life with Irish”. (Audrey, Phoebe, Liza, Quinn and Irish, who thinks he's a lap dog)
(Liza makes peace with the fact that Irish isn't going anywhere)
   Kindred spirits Henry and Sam excused themselves to play computer games upstairs.  (Sam and Bruno go upstairs)
(Two of a kind, computer boys Sam and Henry)

   Much too soon our time ended and everyone packed up their wet tennis shoes and pond-soaked socks.
(Brotherly love)

   “Henry, you’re lucky,” Sam said as he hugged Henry good-bye.

   “Why?” Henry asked.

   “Because you get to live here,” Sam said plainly.

   “Well, you can come visit any time Germaine and Kevin let you. You can come this summer or sometimes you could fly up with my dad.”

   “Really!?”

   “Really. Right, Mom?” Henry asked, wanting backup.

    “Anytime, Samma.”
    (Henry lifting a giggling Sam)

   After they left, Henry turned to me and said, "Mama, that Sam's a handful. I don't know if Daddy can handle him. Well, he is MY Daddy. I guess he's used to it, huh?"

   "Does Henry the Handful sound familiar in any way?"

October 29th Pet Semetary

(Cruella - on her way to the Humane Society Gala)

    My sister is a veterinarian with a twisted sense of humor. Recently nominated to be on the board for the Whatcom County Humane Society, she went to their annual Halloween Gala flying solo as Chris had to work. I've been told she could be heard murmuring, “Do you know where the Dalmatian Rescue is located?” throughout the evening.

(Only the demented Donaldsons would have a pet cemetery)

(Is it disturbing to have a vet with this kind of humor?) (I wonder what the leaf lady thinks of these) (Our friend Laura always liked Snoopy - Lisa and I never did) (They actually had a dog named Buck) (Looks like some raccoons got to this one) (9 out of 10 veterinarians say, "Never name a dog Lucky")

October 28th Brown Chicken - Brown Cow

   

(Pea getting the room ready for me to paint - moving electrical - scraping wallpaper)

Tom is in town so we spent the day working on the project that never got finished -- the guest bathroom.

After we picked up Henry from school and went shopping for Halloween costume odds and ends, we went over to have dinner with Chris and Lisa. It was to be a simple meal; they made a salad and potatoes, while we picked up a couple of barbecued chickens at Costco.

    The kids did their homework and ate downstairs, while we dined in the kitchen and caught up on everything. When Tom was pouring me a glass of wine, I noticed there was a message on my cell phone.

    “Hey, uh, this is Wayne.  (Wayne)

I don’t know how to tell you this, but when I got home from work there were two cows in my parking space. I didn’t know what to do. I tried shooing them back to the barn area, but they would just run away and then look at me. I did it again and again, but just as I got close they ran and kicked up their heels and, man, can they jump! Anyway, I only saw two. The other one is missing. I don’t know what else to do, but you probably should get home pretty quick. It's getting dark.”

I pressed 9 to save the message, hung up the phone smiling, and took a sip of my wine. Wayne was new at this. I was reminded of Maryruth. “Some cowboys are all hat and don’t have a lick of cow sense.”

Not that Wayne’s a cowboy, but he is a trouper, giving cow wrangling a try.

.

    “What was that?” Tom asked.

    “Wayne called. Andy and Anna are out. He didn’t see Abe.”

    “He knew which was which?” Lisa looked incredulous.

    “No. But I just know “Abie the Baby” didn’t leave the pasture in the dark.”

    “Should you guys rush home?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows as he shoveled in a forkful of avocado.

    “Even if we race home, we won’t be there for almost an hour,” Tom remarked, settling back in his chair. “They’re not Pancho and Lefty.”

    “They won’t go anywhere. None of our animals go anywhere. They’ll just hang around the pasture.”  We began eating again. I’d forgotten how tasty Costco chickens are.

    When we got home we drove to the barn, scooped out some grain and went down to the pasture. I’d forgotten to latch the gate when I grained them earlier.

    “Who wants a cookie? Who wants some treats?” I yelled in a sort of singsong tone. Sure enough, Abe came out from behind the barn and I heard cowbells a jingle-jangle-jingling towards us. I poured the grain into the dishes as Tom held the gate open for our wayward friends. They stepped in nice as you please and bellied up to the bar. Tom latched the gate and that was that.

(Anna ready for a late night snack)

A lot different from last year's March Madness (20th)

August 15th Rolling On De River

    The day had finally arrived to go tubing! To make sure we were there on time, Tom and I made our requisite run to Lowes™ early in the day.  We also had bills to mail, taco fix'ns to buy and so we hurried. The minute we got home, we jumped in our suits, grabbed our tubes and sped down to Acme to wait for the Donaldsons.

    We blew up the tubes, got some snacks and waited. We drove to Strand Road the drop off place for the car and called them. They were going to be even later – they went a different way and got lost. We played games like “Going On a Picnic” It seems there was a miscommunication. We waited for two hours. (Tom, Henry, Sam and Kimona kill time playing games)

    By the time the properly apologetic Donaldsons arrived it was simply too late to go. We couldn’t risk being on the river after dark. And because Lisa was working at the Emergency Clinic and Chris had a business trip to New York, we didn’t think we could go on Sunday. I felt terrible. After all that preparation,  Sam and Kimona were going to miss going.

Like every Hollywood ending - All was darkest before a lady told Chris  there was a short 1/2 mile run we could do. Something was better than nothing. We hopped in. The sun was hot and the water cool. The snowy mountains peered at us from the distance as we bobbed along with the current. (Kimona give it the thumbs up)

(Henry and Sam go head first)

(Quinn trying out the boy's method)

    A few minutes into the float there was a flurry of rescheduling. We’re all going again tomorrow – except Lisa (you just can’t blow off the Emergency Clinic)

(Tired but happy Sam)

(Packing in the Pheeb)

June 15th Wishin' & Hopin' & Thinkin' & Prayin'

Having rolled out of bed, Henry and I slopped through the wet grass to the car at about 6:30 AM, loading Tom’s suitcases while he finished a few last minute things and wrote a host of instructions for me regarding a myriad of projects.

On the way to the airport, we listened to Sissy Spacek drawl “To Kill A Mockingbird”. No one wanted to admit we were going to have to say goodbye. Again.

We stopped at Starbucks™ and picked up a couple of coffees. Tom insists on going through his medium routine.

    “You mean a Grande, Sir?”
    “A medium black coffee.” He delivers this with a straight face.
    “A Grande.”
    “A medium.”
    “I think you want a Grande.”
    “I want the medium-size coffee.”
    “Any flavoring?”
    “Just a medium black coffee.”

    The baristas get a little nervous and confused, but he won’t play. He stands there deadpan, firmly ordering his medium coffee. He’s always been this way – he says. But I remember back when he used to brew “Irish Crème”.

    “I don’t like those fruffity-doofity drinks”

    We sat sipping our mediums in front of the airport terminal. Henry had made a huge rhyming card covered in tools, which ended by suggesting Tom might want to change Henry’s name to DeWalt™(a power tool brand).

    When the inevitable came and Tom got out of the car and we were ready for a weepy parting of the hearts Tom spotted some guy in a NASCAR shirt. Suddenly, he was giving the guy garbage about his driver versus Tom’s driver in his “team” over my shoulder as he hugged me goodbye. Henry rolled his eyes and said, “That’s my dad; he’ll talk to anyone about NASCAR.” True. He hasn’t been into NASCAR for very long, but once his son, Craig, got into it Tom made a Herculean effort to find out about it and somewhere along the way he got completely addicted. I could see him still yucking it up with the guy in the NASCAR shirt in my rearview mirror as we drove off.

    We just made a quick stop at Home Depot for a few cans of paint to paint the guest room and a can of spray paint. We're going to outline the new walkway Henry and I decided we have to have. We've gotten our feet wet one too many times. Resolved, we headed home to do chores and clean up. (proposed outline)
One father down and one to go, we were actually putting on some town clothes and heading back into Bellingham to watch my dad play at Boundary Bay Brewery.

    Henry couldn’t sit in the bar so we hooked him up with a chair just on the other side of the divider where he could see his grandpa. I sipped my glass of wine and watched my father perform as I’ve done so many times before. This time was different. He looked distracted and a bit sad. I could tell he really wasn’t recovered enough to play, but that never stops him. I watched and realized why he wanted to go back to Paris so much. Although he really enjoys the other musicians, they don’t play a lot of traditional jazz. For the first time I understood what he was talking about. I only hope he can go.

My favorite memory of Father’s Day isn’t of my dad, Tom or even my grandfather, it’s of Chris. Years ago, Lisa, Chris, Quinn and Henry were driving around in the Valley heat on Father’s Day looking at houses - Phoebe wasn’t even born yet. We’d spent the day in and out of places and Chris finally complained he was starving and it was, after all, Father’s Day, didn’t that mean anything?  Lisa promptly drove through McDonalds™ and ordered up some food. When all was said and done, poor Chris crumpled up in the back seat had to share his cold fries with both kids. He’s a damn good sport.

Lisa, Chris and the girls strolled in out of the sunshine. Tired of sitting by himself, Henry and the girls got their own table in the back – we tried to order fries for both tables– now the traditional Father’s Day food in the Donaldson home. They didn’t have any. Chris was able to console himself with the sampler platter.
 

Boundary Bay - 2008

June 13th A Good Time

   (Henry's teacher's gift)

    This morning I woke up very early and began trolling dew-covered ditches, hillsides and the pond for wildflowers. My trusty companion, Irish, trotted along next to me chewing on my reject pile. When I was done I was soaked, but I had created Henry’s teacher’s gift. I couldn’t afford much, but I picked up the vase at TJ MAXX™ for a song.

Creativity, I am convinced, is born of poverty. When I bought my first home I couldn’t really afford to do much, but I couldn’t stand it the way it was, so I had to get creative. I ripped out the bathroom and went around collecting broken tile from different stores – stuff they were going to discard. Toby and I went to Home Depot™ and got a little pamphlet on how to tile and set to improving my bathroom. Much to everyone’s surprise – especially my mother’s -  it looked fabulous. Thus I realized, if I’d had the money, I never would have gone to the trouble.

The day has rambled on. Henry had his “fifth grade culmination”, which was actually a small award assembly. He went on to a swim party on Lake Whatcom while Tom and I raced back to the house to get ready for our celebratory barbecue. With barely a word to each other we furiously tidied, cleaned, marinated and set up tables.

We’d decided to have our dinner out by the pond so we could enjoy the evening, rain or shine, thanks to our covered pavilion. This meant hauling Tom’s new half-gas half-briquette grill out there in the truck. He loves it because it looks like a steam locomotive.

Meanwhile, Mike and my father are down at the hospital in Mt. Vernon. My father is having a biopsy for bladder cancer. It is an outpatient procedure so he should be home by this evening. Mike’s happy because he can sit and read while he waits and avoid having to clean the house. He calls in every few hours to update us on my father’s condition. “He’s still sleeping” seems to sum it up.

    The  “guests”, meaning Lisa, Chris, Annie, Quinn, Phoebe and Henry, as well as Diane, Jordan and Lauren all arrived late. Thank the Lord.

    Despite our best efforts, we haven’t gotten the Mosquito Magnets™ up and running so we scattered tiki torches filled with Citronella™ around. This was not terribly effective, but we made do.

    Just after everyone arrived, my tired-but-otherwise-OK father arrived with Mike. A few more guests also made an appearance. Lloyd, Matilda, Quackmire, Cleveland, Clara, Ruthie, Alfred and Mabel waddled up for their first swim in the pond. They’ve turned out to be very clingy. These geese don’t like to be left alone and always want to be where the action is. Once they arrived we all held our breath waiting to see them frolic in the pond. They didn’t. They hated the pond and were afraid of the water. Apparently, I have the only geese this side of the Mississippi with hydrophobia. We tried putting them in the water to show them how wonderful it is, but they would just flap wildly, squawking frantically until they reached land once more. Confused, stunned and full of disbelief, we left them to their own devices, not wanting to emotionally scar them. After that they flapped contentedly around the party, coming in the pavilion to check on Tom’s cooking and say hello. Weirdoes. (Lisa giving swimming lessons to Cleveland) (more lessons)

    Little Chris Donaldson showed up with Roxy, Andrea (a new girlfriend he’s had a crush on since the sixth grade), and he also brought a surprise guest – his horse. He trailered “Oz” over for Henry to ride as a present. (Little Chris & Andrea)

(Henry on Oz)

    All in all, our first summer evening was relaxed and wonderful. The kids walked the goats and rode the tractor, played badminton and floated in the boat while we ate Tom's delicious ribs, cosmic beans, corn and watermelon, sipped my sangria and downed Diane’s brownies. (Jordan and her mother - Diane)

May 7th Stuart Little

   

    As you know, I live way out in the country where we expect to find all kinds of varmints. We’ve had toads in the mud, bunnies hopping in the garden, lots of deer prancing in the pasture, at least one beaver swimming in the pond, several coyotes hunting near the stream, a family of raccoons eating apples in the trees, countless mosquito-eating bats in the rafters, a shrew in the compost pile and a couple of packrats in the barn. Don’t let the rat part throw you they’re actually quite adorable. They’re the ones in cartoons that steal - or as I prefer borrow - all the shiny things they can find like bolts and keys and tin foil.

    What we haven’t had are mice in our car. But my city-dwelling little sister has. I don’t know what got him so going but I guess Chris was suspicious, as he’d heard noises or saw droppings or both so he devised the “cracker test”. He put one cracker in each car closed the doors and in the morning both crackers were unmistakably nibbled. Lisa called to see if Emmett, the assassin was available. I laughed and really didn’t take the thing too seriously. So a mouse climbs in the car, how long is it really going to stay? Yesterday, though when we were talking on the phone, she was sitting in her car watching the kid’s soccer practice. Suddenly, her voice got low and secretive. She spoke into the phone as if someone else was listening. She stopped talking every once in a while as though trying to detect an intruder on a dark and lonely night. She reported hearing scratching noises. The whole thing sounded creepy. She lives off Chuckanut, which is kind of a fancy-shmancy neighborhood.

    Today Lisa called me shrieking and screaming from her car. I thought something terrible had happened. She said it did, she saw a mouse run across the front of her car near the windshield wiper while she was driving and bless her little heart she stopped and had the presence of mind to take a picture. She’s a cool cucumber that one. Lisa is definitely who you want around in an emergency. Apparently she has an entire nest of mice living in her car. Diane says there are droppings. Lisa wanted to see if Bellingham had a drive-thru exterminator. Diane’s ready to get a hose to force 'em out and shoot ‘em as they run for cover. She's sure she can get 'em all in one go. She’s from the South, I’m not sure if her maiden name is Hatfield or McCoy.

(taken from the outside of the car - you can see her windshield wiper - almost dead center of the picture is the little fella's head peeking out.)

    This mouse in the car thing is a phenomenon I’ve never heard of before, but after Lisa did a bit of investigating it seems it’s not that uncommon. This just wouldn’t happen in Southern California because the un-Godly heat would prevent any sort of life form from ever living in a car. You can barely get in a car without burning your legs on the leather. But as locals know, Beverly Hills –90210- was absolutely infested with rats for years.

    City folk. I guess out here in the country, we bumpkins believe in keeping them critters outside where they can roam free. We don’t chauffer ‘em around or put little clothes on ‘em.

April 28th The Long & The Short Of It

(Phoebe just before entering the salon)

    This weekend we all gathered at Elysium in Fairhaven to witness
a big event in our little Pheeb’s life. Lisa came with her coffee in hand and Chris, armed with his video camera, ready to document the event – (in case Phoebe changed her mind and allowed him to make it into a documentary). Today was

{Chris, Lynda and Phoebe)

a moment we’ll all remember, Phoebe was fulfilling a promise she made to herself over a year ago. You see, Phoebe vowed to grow her hair out long enough to donate it to Locks of Love, an organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children who have lost their hair due to a medical condition.

    This is not a blip in Phoebe’s personality, rather it defines who she is. Oh, she can stretch the truth, she'll take the last sip of Quinn's drink and she’s horribly stubborn, but Phoebe has a heart the size of the Grand Canyon. When my dog, Gladys, had to be put to sleep, it was four-year-old Phoebe who wanted to go and pet her until the end, because she didn't want Gladys to be scared. When Lisa delivers puppies, Phoebe is the one who wants to “catch” them and help them warm up and breathe. Quinn and Henry, like many people, hide under pillows at the thought of pain or the sight of blood, but Phoebe is one of those who can deal with the hard situations and give of herself thinking only of the other person, puppy, dog, rabbit, hamster, opossum or squirrel.

     I wasn’t sure she’d really go through with it. I always wanted long hair when I was her age. I had long hair but not Swiss Miss™ long hair, not Phoebe long hair or in the case of my childhood not Kathy Obradavich or Tracy Felger long hair. To tell you the truth, I was more reluctant for her to cut it than she was. But I think the whole process was made easier for all of us because Lynda cut her hair. Lynda is a friend of the family so she understood why Phoebe had such an audience documenting this occasion. Especially since her own daughter Erika donated her hair to Locks a couple of years ago. Lynda, a very experienced mom, was complete in her knowledge that sparkles will lift almost any girl's spirits and was quick with the glitter spray to head off any feelings of regret.

    I suppose she was a bit sick of all the snags on zippers, snarls after swimming and tangled mornings when she didn’t braid it. I guess Phoebe was ready for the freedom of being able to care for her hair on her own. Independence.

   (Lisa messing around with Phoebe's donation)

I’m sure in the next weeks there will be a little sense of loss. After all it’s a part of her she unselfishly gave away. In fact, she says she’s going to do it again because it takes several donations to make one hairpiece.

    Faith, Hope and Charity, but the greatest of these is Charity.

April 25th Coincidence?

                    (Alfred)

    Today was Lisa and Chris’s 16th wedding anniversary. And every year something bad happens. I kid you not. And don't mean I-spilled-my-coffee-bad, which admittedly can be more than a little traumatic, but really bad. So for the last couple of weeks we’ve been bracing ourselves for Black Thursday. We all felt with the passing of Griffin, perhaps it would be quiet this year. Not so. Tom called about 10:30 AM to tell me he’d been the middle car in a three-car accident. He’s OK, but his car isn’t.

    Unfortunately, he couldn’t get into a doctor today, but he will tomorrow - I hope.

    He’s sore, irritable,completely exhausted and annoyed. I don't know whether it's from the accident or from arranging to have the car towed from West LA to Ventura, or all the running around getting  a rental car, dealing with insurance, calling into work and fielding calls from me. Probably a combination.

    When you factor in he had a Civic™ hybrid with one of L.A.s coveted green tags for commuting - you can't get them anymore - and he's about to lose his with the replacement of his back bumper. I take it as a sign he's leaving.

    With the curse handled for another year. I felt it safe to operate large farm equipment.

    Dan Cramer brought the round bales by around 11:30AM dumped them and ran. He was late for something. I stood there looking at these mounds and thought of the Yellow Umbrella art that dotted the landscape in central California years ago. Now I had to move these by myself. I got the tractor out and set to work. Flipping them, sliding them and rolling them into place I moved steadily with the tractor. Irish my faithful companion took refuge from the single ray of sunshine that fought its way through the clouds. All in all the job wasn’t nearly as hard as I’d first thought. I’m getting pretty efficient with that thing if I do say so myself.

    Afterward, I gave the goslings a bath, t and fixed up a carrier for them to ride to the vet. Meanwhile the appliance guy came and took away about four refrigerators, a freezer and a couple of stoves, an old computer and two dishwashers. The farm equipment remains dotting the property, Somehow it’s not as bad to have a vintage tractor lying around. There just isn’t any panache in a 1970 Amana™. The bill for the removal was astronomical so much to my chagrin I told him to leave the trash. I called for a roll-off. I’ll load it myself for those prices.

    Alfred, Cleveland, Quackmire and I headed off to the vet’s office. We drove along the 9 to Lynden. The town depicted in the movie “Footloose”. They have more churches per capita than any other town in America. You’re not allowed to mow your lawn on Sundays. But it’s very quaint. You see a lot of signs that say, “If you ain’t Dutch you ain’t Much.”

    Along the way we passed places like Udder End Manure. And big beautiful barns. When we arrived everyone wanted to see the goslings, but of course they thought they were ducks. I let it go.

    The doctor examined Alfred and compared him to the other two, did a parasite test which was negative. She believes, Alfred is calcium deficient so she prescribed some liquid calcium to given 2X daily. And she wanted me to get crushed oyster shells for all of the goslings to nibble on.

    I was so sleepy in the office I fell asleep waiting for the parasite test to come back. So when I spied “Coffee Girls” drive-thru I pulled up and ordered a triple shot non-fat latte. The girl working was very pleasant and efficient. When she handed me my drink asking me if I wanted a straw she saw the goslings.

    “Oh, I wondered where that noise was coming from. They’re sooooo cute.”

    We discussed Alfred’s calcium deficiency and his prognosis. He should be much better and be flop, flop, flopping around in less than a week according to the doctor.

    Just after I pulled away from "Coffee Girls", my phone rang. It was Henry. He and Mike were at the feed store on an emergency oyster shell run.

    “Mama?”

    “What is it Henry?”

    “There’s this bunny.”

    “NO!”

    “Mama, he’s really cute and he’s so sweet and we could keep him in the black container the goslings used to be in and I want him and I think he needs me.”

    “NO!”

    “Mama, I will take care of him and love him.”

    “Henry we already have 25 animals for you to love. Where exactly did you plan on keeping him?”

    “In my room.”

    “Forever? The bunny is sentenced to your room forever? That isn’t how bunnies want to live. And do you remember our last bunny? She bit everyone. And if you also remember you didn’t think she really ever played with you she was scared all the time.”

    “Mom!”

    “NO.”

    “Will you at least think about it?”

    “Sure, I’ll think about how many more times I’m going to have to say no.”

    “Mom, you’re mean.”

    “You forgot rotten. I'm mean and rotten. I’ll see you at home. I hope the talent show rehearsal went well.”

    “No. It didn’t.” Click.

    When I got the goslings back in their cage and finished my coffee, I heard the dogs barking wildly. I peered out the window to see an enormous bulldozer in my driveway. I grabbed my jacket and went outside. A very nice man that worked at the quarry on the other side of the one-lane bridge was having problems with the gasoline in his truck. He didn’t seem to have enough gas because of the incline. His gas had slid backward and wasn’t giving the engine enough. Now he needed something he could make a siphon out of. Being neighborly, we cut up a part of an old hose with Henry’s new pocketknife we found in the shop.

    I always see the mound of rock and have been curious so I asked about it. He told me the rock is a high temperature rock they make a high quality cement out of it. It's often used to pour the forms for cars, because it doesn't fluctuate. I asked if I could buy some of the rock, I need more for the areas the tractor drives on. I wondered if I could buy a pick-up load. He said he’d be happy to ask his boss and went on his way in his sporty yellow bulldozer.

    As I was coming in the house from doing the nightly barn ritual, I heard a semi with a rock carrier on the back coming up the road. As it wound passed our house, it blasted its horn three times. I waved. That must be good luck.   

April 8th Love Never Ends

    Sunday Lisa and Chris brought Griffin and Winifred out to visit since Quinn and Phoebe are spending a few days out here at the farm. We fed the goats, gave Miracle treats, grained the cows and took a walk to the pond while we sipped on hot tea watching Griffin and the rest of the dogs run around like well, dogs on a farm. Sniffing, marking, rolling in unknown disgusting smells, they played tag with the Canada Geese. There was a lot of wagging and panting. It was a great last day.

    

I n the morning Griffin had trouble breathing so Lisa took him to the hospital where she’s been working. As he was being brought in he slipped into unconsciousness and passed away.

   

It’s hard to say good-bye

March 15th And On His Farm He Had A. . .

    This morning, Tom and I got up made a thermos® of coffee and warmed up the car. I already had Henry’s gymnastics bag in the car so all we had left was to gather the sleeping boy. Naturally, it’s still dark. It’s always dark in the morning until way past reasonable so I put Henry’s comforter and pillow in the way back seat and told him to go back to sleep until it got light. We were on our way to the gymnastics State Championships in Bellvue a suburb of Seattle. Team Donaldson would be meeting us there. They come from a different direction and they didn’t have to be there for the more than hour of warm-up stuff.

    No one is surprised they missed the first event, but Lisa did have a good reason, Griffin. She had to take care of him since he’s had his first chemo treatment. It’s not like she could just leave him without making sure he was properly taken care of.

    Henry did ok at the meet, surprising everyone with the best vault of his life. He received a 9.5 and took second in state. He has now qualified to go on to the regional competition: Idaho, Washington, Oregon and Alaska, in April.

    To celebrate, and we’re always looking for a reason to celebrate we decided to go to the Cheesecake Factory for lunch. The wait was what you might expect, making us a little anxious. We hadn’t thought lunch would be a three-hour ordeal but once we were finally seated we just gave into it and enjoyed ourselves.

   

    Quinn was the afternoon’s entertainment. She drove Henry crazy with sporadic animal noises in his ear. Henry kept asking someone anyone to make her stop. She’d look bewildered and ask what he was talking about. I was seated directly across the table from them and found it quite entertaining.

   

    “Moo”

   

    “Cut it out! Didn’t you hear her?

   

    “Oink, oink, oink”

   

    “C’mon you must have heard that. Stop it Quinn.”

   

After some time, Tom turned to Lisa and said, “I don’t know, but I think she’s got ‘barnyard terets” as if on cue, Quinn suddenly bleated in Henry’s ear.

   

    “Did you see? Did you hear her? She won’t quit it. She’s driving me bonkers.” We just laughed.

    After lunch, Phoebe decided to come home with us and spend the night. She hadn’t had any snow or farm for a while and needed to see Miracle and the goats.

    Miracle’s funny when it comes to the kids. When she first arrived she was all lovey-dovey with them and then, she changed her attitude. No one really knows why. I’ve tried to make them be the ones to give her treats, but she still is extremely standoffish going in a corner and turning her back. Not a situation where you want to start convincing her of anything. She snuggles me and practically kisses Tom, but when it comes to the kids she really gets a little kooky. But we're working on it.

March 5th Signs

    Henry and I rushed to get in the car this morning headed for school, carrying our morning essentials: milk, oatmeal and coffee, just like any other day. Alas this was not to be like any other day. Instead, we were attacked. Suddenly, and without warning robins ambushed our car like Kamikaze pilots they flew at us without fear from all directions. It wasn’t until the very last moment they veered away in some game of – dare I say- chicken? I was completely unprepared. They were everywhere as we went down one long stretch of road. Thoughts of Tippi Hedren crept into my head. Then in a more rational moment I decided to settle down, I would ignore them and just keep going. They’re birds they’ll get out of the way for Heaven’s sake. No. No they didn’t. The car in front of us hit one and we watched as it bounced off. Not a great start to the morning watching the symbol of spring killed in front of you.

    Years ago, Chris and I were driving along Mulholland Highway in the very early morning and a crow hit my windshield. It was not a good sign of things to come. What does this mean?  Is this the end or the beginning of spring?

When I got home and started doing things around the house I counted twenty-seven robins a-bob-bob-bobbin-along. They looked so harmless. There was not a hint of the malevolent treachery they were capable of earlier. I walked outside and most took refuge in my apple trees above the pasture. They sang to me while I sipped my coffee from the porch. Then I heard a toad chime in. The toads are back. Spring has sprung.

(suspected felon in apple tree)

January 14th Bainbridge Island

This weekend we all, Lisa, Chris, Quinn, Phoebe, Mike, Henry and me went to Bainbridge Island for Henry’s gymnastics meet. We decided to go on Saturday take the ferry over and spend the night because the meet was first thing Sunday morning. The drive to Seattle was nothing special. Henry watched “Star Trek” episode after “Star Trek” episode. Including the one where Kirk battles the giant reptile thing, alligator Gorgon guy. I don’t know, I’m not an official Trekkie by any means.
    The excitement began when we boarded the ferry. I’d never driven onto a ferry before. It felt so East Coast. We left our car and went up to the snack bar, Mike and I got a cup of tea and Henry got a stale pretzel with processed cheese. He was disappointed with the food, but we all enjoyed the view. As we began to cross the sun was setting majestically over the Seattle skyline. It was stunning.
    The Donaldsons got a later start than us and therefore missed the ferry and had to wait for the next one. Once on the island we found our motel and started looking for a place to have dinner. We dined at the “oldest” restaurant on the island. We were expecting something like 1800 or something; instead we saw that it was established in 1982. Hmm. We tried to go to a movie, but the show times were wrong, so we went back to the motel and played cards. I didn’t want Henry to stay up too late, so we all went to bed around 9:30PM. Mike despite his denials went straight to sleep. How might I know this you ask? His room sandwiched between ours, Lisa and I could both hear snoring through the walls. Henry couldn’t sleep he was giggling so much. He kept saying we had to buy Mike a pack of BreatheRight™ strips for his birthday. Finally, I had to wake Mike up so Henry could go to sleep. I felt bad, but Mike could read for a while and go back to sawing logs a short time later.
    The next day, when we arrived at the competition we were all pleased to see a Latte truck in the parking lot. This was a high-class operation. We cheered, calling Tom before, during and after each event. Henry did well, getting a 9.1 on the rings and coming in second all around. The highest he’s ever placed in all around.
    Afterward, we decided to walk around Bainbridge window-shopping. Quinn, now suddenly a reader needed a book. And the rest of us enjoyed looking around. We went in to one shop where everyone found something they liked and had to have. I restrained purchasing the red chinoise china buffet I salivated over. Henry found a beautiful chess set that was unbelievably cheap. I wasn’t going to buy it, I didn’t want to spend any money, but I could hear Tom and what he’d have said in the back of my head. I knew without question he’d have bought it in a second. It was ornate, unique and quite lovely, the price was right and so to honor Tom’s wishes because he couldn’t be here and to make Henry happy I bought it.  We’d have something to tangible to always remember his second place finish. Chris kept saying we were “burning daylight” he had something he had to work on and needed to get back. So we headed home.
    Very, very early this morning Lisa called and told me to check my email. Begrudgingly, I did it as I barely had my first sip of coffee and was trying to manage opening my eyes in the darkness. There was a link:

I clicked on it and tears started streaming down my face. Cranky Chris had stayed up late and made a video of Henry at Bainbridge. It was so sweet I couldn’t believe it. No wonder Lisa married him. I emailed the link to everyone I knew before I took my next sip. Then I called Tom and woke up Henry.
    Henry called Chris and excitedly told him “Chris, You Rock!”

January 1st Go Speed Racer

    I’ve never liked New Year’s Day. Growing up, it just meant endless the endless drowning of football games, crowded malls and not much else. Everyone seemed to always be busy, but nothing really fun happened, until today. Today was great. We watched the Rose Parade, which felt a little odd, because last year Henry went down and saw the floats.  My mom’s friend, Marie lives on the parade route and we’ve gone many times in the past. This year we were watching it on TV. You can’t really see the details of the flowers that really make this parade so amazing, but we were realizing why everyone moves to Southern California. It must look irresistible to so many people as they’re sitting on their sofas in their homes snowed in with cloudy skies. I bet California could solve their immigration problem by stopping just that broadcast.

    The kids took the sleds and trudged outside. Lisa and I joined them and up and down the hill we went all afternoon. It was an icy cold blast of fun. The dogs raced up and down the hill beside us trying to save us from the sleds. Vivian tried to bite the sled and had to be put away, before she became hysterical. There were more of us than there were sleds so the kids just started rolling down the hill freestyle.

    Lisa, Phoebe and I decided to take a walk to the pond while Henry and Quinn thought they’d try sledding in a different part of the property. Our walk was serene. We sat on the dock marveling at how much ice actually covered the water .

 

I don’t know how long we were there, but on the way back we could hear Quinn screaming. “Henry needs you! Henry needs you! Henry crashed!” We were confused because after all Chris and Tom were there, why would they need us?

    Phoebe said it best. “They’re daddies, he probably needs a mommy.” She was right.

   

Chris bet him five bucks to go down the hill on the sled like a snow border. Brilliant. Henry, the bonehead, tried it and landed full speed face first in the ice. Now, weeping, as Tom less than tenderly treated the road rash that covered most of his face, he stood there stretching out his arms for a hug. You leave for a minute.

(One of the daddy's took this picture)

October 31st Scary Business

    Today I met with Kevin Houlp, a Small Business Advisor; Patty, a banker, referred me to. I met Patty because of Nina, a woman with a great coat in a coffee place. Nina is new in town too and she thought the history camp sounded wonderful and told me she’s part of a group that helps each other get a head in their business. It’s not a formal group, but nonetheless she sent me to Patty. Patty was very hopeful and listened attentively. I felt as if she truly wanted to help us, but unfortunately she is now just another banker that turned me down for a loan. Patty has the distinction of being the first woman to turn me down. She like many of the other bankers told me not to give up. She told me she was not only a banker but a mom with kids in Bellingham schools and that she did not want me to give up because she wanted her kids to be able to go to a history camp or at least go to my facility on a field trip, but her boss didn’t “get it”.  So she gave me several people to call and Kevin is one of them.

    The meeting was scary. Kevin was great, but brutal. He told me I was never going to get a loan as a history camp. He told me banks would not understand the business model. He told me I’d have to find some investors that believed in education to get behind me or it wouldn’t happen. Wow. Depressing. I have to think this through. He told me to consider becoming something else and evolving into the camp, like a bed & breakfast or a farm retreat. Hmm. I don’t know. This requires a great deal of thought.

     After my dismal-hope-dashing-meeting, the idea of picking up Henry and going trick or treating was not high on my list. But as every mother knows, mothering is not always about what you want. It’s Halloween today not tomorrow and I had to just get over myself. I went to “I Wanamoka” and got a grande drip. I figured I’d have plenty of time to think about what Kevin said tomorrow. I took a big gulp and swung by the school picked Henry up from school and sipped my coffee while I helped him change into the Jack Sparrow costume we put together with belts from ladies discount department stores etc. Henry has decided  he should walk around simulating a drunken stupor to enhance his costume.

We’re a family that takes Halloween very seriously. Things are a lacking this year due to trying to start the business and fix the house, but under normal circumstances we have a full graveyard etc. Over the years, Henry has gone as Abe Lincoln complete with beard, Hankenstein,Tutankhamen and Harpo Marx. One year when he was little we made a papier mache Humpty Dumpty egg. Just as he was going to wear it he became frightened of getting in his costume - To our shame he went as the Blue Power Ranger.

    We usually have silhouette of a larger than life witch on top of our house etc. Lisa too sews costumes like Cruella Deville. Therefore, I was feeling like quite the party pooper when I spied Chris doing his Thomas Jefferson imitation on the corner of Harris and 14th Streets while I was dressed in meeting-type clothes.

We went trick or treating in Fairhaven with Lisa, Chris & Phoebe –Quinn met up with us, but she is in middle school now which means she needed some not with the “little kids” time.      

    Fairhaven is a quaint historic section of Bellingham where the businesses give out treats and everyone walks around with either a bag of candy or a coffee depending on your age.

    We did the business district and while the costumed ones were in line to have their picture taken at the pharmacy, Quinn dressed as a pumpkin (again) joined us.

    We all went to dinner and then out into an adorable little neighborhood overlooking the bay. The houses were all decked out. The leaves were falling the jack-o-lanterns were aglow. It looked the art department came in and dressed it for an early  Jaimie Lee Curtis flick. Quinn said "It looks like this in the movies with kid