Room at the Inn

We’ve extended the idea of K’s Inn to our non-human friends. Although we’ve always been somewhat of a secret safe haven for a few homeless cats and dogs, this winter we have openly begun providing free meals to other members of the neighborhood as well. A couple summers ago we began with a hummingbird program, but the long bouts of freezing temperatures this winter prompted Don to add an igloo shelter, two birdhouses, and a homemade swinging squirrel feeder. Everyone seems quite appreciative and we love watching their antics.

This visitor and a striped one are a bit camera shy, but Molly is quite sociable.

The bird feeder in the backyard was so popular we added one in the front where Mom could see it from her chair. The smaller birds who were often ousted by bigger birds in the backyard claimed it right away.

We have a pair of squirrels in the neighborhood who pay a visit to the bird feeder once in awhile, too. We love their acrobatic antics.

The squirrel family took a whole day to investigate every inch of the swing set and check the coffee can from every angle before they decided it was safe and set out figuring how to get the food out of the can. It swings free, but they soon learned to sit on the slide ladder, reach out and grab the can, swing it around and climb halfway in to help themselves. Then they sit on a crossbar to munch. This character let me get about five feet away to take my pictures. I swear he was posing. (Did you get that? No, THIS is my good side.)

Birds of all sizes flock to this feeder.

A Woodpecker loves to hang on the cage and eat the suet feed inside.

These guys are next in line. Only a couple birds eat at the feeder at a time. They will scrape seeds out onto the ground so that some can eat down there at the same time. The rest patiently wait their turn on a nearby bush. We've spotted the cats sitting below the feeder, looking up at it in deep thought, but they have yet to indulge. Either they are heeding my admonishment to "do no harm" or they are content with their full stomachs. In any case, the birds are cautious and patient about waiting until the coast is clear.

Deluge

Okay. I’m done. We have had rain off and on for weeks, but this week, this day, is enough for me. I feel like my home has been moved into a rainforest. I have foregone complaining until now for selfish reasons. Rain is good for the crops and good for my yard. It means a lower water bill and that no one, including myself, will expect me to go out and pull weeds. Rain adds to the water table, which sustains this area through the dry summer months, cleans the air, prevents forest fires, and washes the bird poop off my car. But a weather dial that is permanently stuck on this setting is not a good thing for me. A spring shower is one thing, but this bone-drenching downpour-that-never-ends is depressing. When it is finally over and the sun has come back out to play, I will be able to cheerfully proclaim how refreshing a good Eastern Oregon rain is, but for now, all I want to do is feed my growing depression with food. Where did I leave those potato chips?

Why?

Why do they do it? The neighbors. Some of these people have actually started mowing their lawns. I mean, please. What’s the rush? If it is just to make us look bad, they already did that last fall by mowing the week after we stopped. We give; you win. Go back inside and be industrious somewhere else. Everyone knows that once you start mowing in the spring, you can’t quit until fall, so why be a glutton for punishment? It could still snow, you know, and we get frost until June. It’s not like there is going to be a barbecue in the rain or lawn chair suntanning opportunities during our 60 degree highs. Come on. Get real. Read a book.

Celebrating the Sun

Ah, the sunshine is back! We have had quite a spell of completely overcast skies and I am ready for a break in the clouds. Blue sky and sunshine always improve my mood. We get all kinds of weather on the eastern side of our state, but, thankfully, the sun doesn't hide for long.

A Month in Pictures

From a briefly white Christmas...

to a New Year of frozen fog...

through an Epiphany of hail...

to rain-sodden disillusion with a promise...

to Hope.

Oops. That Can't Be Good.

Fall Back

It is no longer a question of whether or not to wear a coat, but rather, which coat or jacket will suffice. Colored leaves obliterate the ground and clog drains, brown mum blossoms are frozen in time like Vesuvius victims, the furnace is kicking on with regular frequency, and my ice scraper has been put into active duty. The final assurance that autumn is in control and swiftly moving toward winter is the approach of Halloween and the end of Daylight Savings Time. Oddly enough, this year they both occur today.

Judging from last night and today’s balmy 50 degree temperature, we may experience a break in the usual inclement weather tradition of Halloween in my neck of the woods. In Eastern Oregon it is customary for children and their parents to have to trudge around the neighborhood in foul weather on Halloween night. The deceptive sunshine of a fall afternoon does not fool the natives. Our trick-or-treating children are well padded beneath their oversized costumes in layers of sweats and coats. Even fairy princesses wear snow boots and mittens. It isn’t Halloween if a little skeleton’s rain-sodden cardboard bones aren’t falling off or Superman, the scarecrow, and the princess don’t have to navigate around snow banks and icy steps to get to each door.

I have never cared much for this holiday. Carving pumpkins is messy, building costumes took more imagination than I’ve ever possessed, and going from car to house to car, loading and unloading excited children with barely-held-together attire without losing a costume part, a child, or my sanity was nothing to look forward to. More than once I asked myself why we did this, but I know for certain it was only because of those little faces who couldn’t believe they were getting a bagful of treats for no reason at all. Visualizing them standing at a trusted neighbor’s door in their bedraggled outfit, saying the magic words (or, in Sarah’s case, stubbornly NOT saying them but flashing a dimpled smile as the candy is dropped into her pumpkin anyway), was all it took. And now that my kids are grown and gone, that is the part I miss. The only part. The happy faces at the end of the evening.

So, I wish good luck and good weather to all those parents and goblins heading out tonight with their costumes, goody bags, and flashlights. I will enjoy you all from the warmth of my living room as you come to my door and I will wish you a safe, dry, happy hallowed eve as I drop the best candy treats into your sacks (no healthy disappointment here). Take care, stay warm, and remember to push your clocks back an hour when you get home. You’ll need the extra sleep.

Summer - Le Dolce Vita

And so we are more than half way through August, which always saddens me. The end of my favorite season is signaled by the school supply lists posted in the post office and the starting date of school, which is now hurtling rather than crawling toward us. I cringe to think of the coming changes and brace myself much as I would in anticipation of stepping out into a November wind.

For me summer means a slower pace of life; time to read for fun, contemplate a picnic, or watch a DVD with Mom during our lunch together. I can lollygag in the yard, pulling weeds, or pretend they aren’t there and sit on the deck with an iced tea. Although we may haggle a bit over the air conditioner setting when temperatures are in the 90s, Mom is still more comfortable than in the winter and enjoys getting out more often, which is good for her. I love the summer light, too, which cheerfully streams in the windows and brightens our outlooks.

Because I don’t work in the summer, there is more time to do fewer things. Appointments are easier to get to and we are much less rushed when doing errands. This takes the pressure off of me and makes outings more enjoyable for Mom, whose only speed is slow motion. She and Don can spar over vine-ripened tomatoes picked from his crop outside her bedroom window, while I watch for Hermiston watermelons to appear in the store.

But the countdown is on and these languorous hours will soon shorten into crisp, autumn days. To-do lists will lengthen and time will speed up to work against our efforts. Because I see the end of summer approaching, I tend to spoil these final hours of ease by rushing to do more before it is over. Perhaps this time, I can resist the panic and just enjoy the time that’s left. Want some iced tea, Mom?

Up, Up, and Away

88 degrees... 92 degrees... 96 degrees... It is a good day to hibernate indoors. I'm glad my little town has lots of trees because, as hot as it has been this last week, the larger towns on either side of us are even hotter.

Although I would rather be too hot than too cold, it does make life interesting in our little household. When the nights do not cool off and leave a little bank of cool air in our house the next morning, we start our day at a disadvantage. By mid-morning, rather than mid-afternoon, I am turning on area fans, guzzling decaffinated iced tea, and finding low-energy activities to keep myself busy. Add to the mix my random hot flashes and I am thankful when the air conditioner finally kicks on.

However, this mixture of high temperatures and air conditioning is volatile to a household combination of both middle-agers and seniors. Tempers begin to flare in small ways as Mom leaves the living room and re-enters with a sweatshirt over her long-sleeved shirt, the hood over her head drawn in a tight pucker around her 94-year-old-face-that-doesn't-look-a-day-over-70. *sigh* I try to ignore the gesture. After all, we don't turn the air conditioner on until the inside temperature is over 80 and she can always go back to her room and turn up her electric heater. Okay, I don't really want her to be quarantined to her room, but is the hood really necessary? We live with furnace settings of 78 degrees in the winter, can't she grant us a little grace in the opposite direction during the summer?

"The air conditioning isn't always this cold, is it?" she asks.

Silence. How do I answer that? What kind of a question is that? AC is what it is.

*sigh* "I'll turn it down."

Spring Rain

Today was a lazy day. I think the steady rain had something to do with it. Good for the crops, hard on my attitude. I shouldn't complain because Eastern Oregon rain is relatively short-lived and very necessary to get us through the rest of the seasons. Our side of the state has four definite and very beautiful seasons, unlike the coast and the Portland area that seem to sport a constant, dismal drizzle year-round. Here, as soon as the rain is done, I can count on the clouds blowing away and the blue sky reigning supreme once again. So, enough of my complaining. Come on life-giving spring rain: clear the cobwebs, freshen our air, nourish our crops and gardens, green up our rolling hills...remind me why I love Eastern Oregon.