Stephanie says

We drove eleven slow, slow miles up a winding and rutted logging road hewn out of a Douglas Fir forest. Afternoon light dappled through a tree canopy illuminating oxalis and fern on the shady forest floor. An autumnal splash of orange and yellow Vine Maple leaves provided contrast to the palette of green in the thick forest. The air was heavenly with the singular fragrance of Port Orford cedar. I was indeed in the land of my childhood. My cousins, Jeanne, Betsy, and Gayle, and I were on an impromptu road trip to the Rogue River by way of Powers, hometown of my late grandmother. We’d stopped at Jack’s Fountain for pie. I spent plenty of time in that shabby diner over the years. It looked the same as it had for decades, sprung vinyl seats in the booths, mismatched chairs. They are deservedly known for good pie however. We’d just about finished when the door opened and in walked Danny Dement. I'm pretty sure I never met him until right then although he was a schoolmate of my ...

Notation on back of postcard (in my grandmother’s hand) “My father W.C. Billings & son George A. Billings taken in 1897 at Custer, South Dakota. Modern Woodmen” Modern Woodmen is a fraternal organization founded in 1883 by Joseph Cullen Root in Lyons, Iowa. It is still in existence today. The society is organized around a lodge system called “Camps” that offer fellowship and community service for members. One of the most visible elements of the organization was its drill teams, which came to be known as Foresters. The first drill team was organized in Hutchinson, Kansas, in 1893; and became nationally known for entertaining crowds at parades and other events from 1890 to the late 1930s. The Foresters were even honored by Herbert Hoover at the White House. I surmise based on this photo that my great grandfather and uncle were photographed in costume for the Custer South Dakota club. Photo and caption below courtesy of the National Heritage Museum. “….set your minds ba...

She’d had a minor vein surgery. She’d never had an i.v. drip and didn’t figure to get one just for the convenience of the doc. She went with a local anesthetic, the surgeon muttering about control issues. “And your point being?” she thought. It was a bit unsettling lying on the surgery table wide awake and discussing movies with the doc while he sliced and stitched away. She could feel skin being pulled about and it was creepy. While unwilling to get an i.v., she was very willing to fill a pain pill prescription. Once home, ensconced on the couch and being waited upon by her family she took full advantage. The surgery site wasn’t painful but she took the pills anyway enjoying a dopey relaxation. She had three days off and spent most of that time lounging in front of the tv watching old movies. By the third day she was down to the last few pills. She’d been thinking “good thing I don’t have access to prescription drugs, I’d be tempted to abuse them.” Then, “sometimes drugs ARE the ans...

My grandparents Charles and Francis Thompson, Carol and Bob on wedding day, Carol's parents, Jesse Hoover (and right now I don't recall his name.) The photo taken at the Hoover farm. This photo was hand colored. Carol and Gayle Thompson Carol was my aunt by marriage. I've always been delighted Uncle Bob had the good sense to marry her. She was a corker. Carol was a most loving and generous person. She welcomed all comers into her life and especially made her family feel loved. Plus she was just brilliant. Michael and I often spent weekends at Bob and Carol’s ranch in Broadbent. Poor Uncle Bob, four women in the household and only one bathroom, an array of Avon products like a yellow bottle of Topaz lotion, decorating the counter, the bathroom always smelled sweet. Broadbent had one store/gas station, a community church, and a grade school. Betsy, Jeanne and Gayle had, wonder of wonders, a charge account at the market. The market had a small selection of toys and so...

The day came when it was time to dispose of my mother’s belongings following her death. It was hard and it was sad. Amazing how many objects a person collects over a lifetime. The decisions on disposal were left to me and my oldest brother. There were so many belongings to claim, give away, or donate to charity. Some of our family came to help; the grandkids and some cousins, thankfully. There were all manner of things: The large (piano), the small (delicate crystal BELL), books, dishes, pots and pans, computer, furniture, garden tools, costume jewelry, photos. We loaded up a borrowed cube-van and found homes for it all. I laid claim to an ancient set of aluminum measuring cups. Those cups, around some 60 years since my parent’s marriage, had constant use whether measuring dry goods in the kitchen or a multitude of other uses by me and my brothers. We might be playing cowboys and Indians under the blanket-draped kitchen table, the humidifier blasting moist Vicks vapor-rub air in...

1907 My maternal great grandparents and my grandmother. She was the youngest of six children and the only one born in Oregon. 1908 1917 1918 Calistenics at Triangle High School On back of photo - in Ethel's hand: Triangle Lake Blachley, Oregon 1918 Now houses are built around the lake - roads were muddy in winter - mail delivered 2 times a week - all had telephones - a horse-drawn stage was one way to go to Junction City. Bobbed hair and ankles visible. The times a changing. She went off to Oregon Normal School in Monmouth and graduated a school teacher in 1927. She taught elementary school for many years then switched to special education in the later years of her career. She taught until she was over 70. Upon retirement she became a volunteer for adult literacy. She was the only grandmother I ever knew - and she was a very good one. We were a tightknit bunch right until she died in 1997, shortly before her 94th birthday. A heartening number of her former ...

A man is a room. There are no doors or windows. The only things in the room (besides the man) Are a table and a mirror. How can he escape? Simple. He looks into the mirror And sees what he saw. With that saw he cuts the table in half. Two halves make a whole. So he climbs out the hole. This story problem just popped into my head, I remember it from 7th grade algebra. Really, does that seem like a math lesson? Or logic? Hmmm, not sure if it was worth using gray matter all these many years – but there it was, waiting for just this moment in my life. This Is A Theme Thursday Post. Click this link to check out what others have written on the subject of "Mirror".