I stepped into November thinking it would be a simple, ordinary month, and instead it turned into one long lesson in patience, gratitude, and keeping my sense of humor.
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| Mo loads many loads of leaves into the small trailer we take to the dump |
In spite of the insurance trauma near the end of October, we began the month feeling that life was just about perfect. Deborah had a load of yard debris, and we had a truck and trailer to haul it. The yard-waste dump we use is in Merlin, right near a wonderful little café we wanted to share with Deb. Just a few minutes north of Grants Pass, the Riffle Café brings a gentle island breeze to Merlin with a warm, welcoming vibe and a menu full of comfort food.
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| I took this photo from the Riffle Cafe webite |
It’s comfort with a Hawaiian twist. The owners came from Maui, and the atmosphere reflects that, friendly and slightly quirky island-style décor, with walls and ceilings covered in colorful iguana and turtle metal sculptures that create a laid-back “ohana” feel. Add in the sourdough pancakes and mimosas by the jug, and it makes for a comforting, satisfying meal. It was the first day of November, and we were completely clueless about what was to follow.
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| All three of us truly enjoyed our morning treat at the Riffle Cafe |
There are many little treasures around Grants Pass, tucked away in unlikely places. Another is the Rogue Creamery on a winding country road west of town. I saw a notice in the local news that the farm stand was closing.
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| A grilled cheese sandwich on a sunny afternoon was delightful |
Rogue Creamery isn’t the little local creamery it once was. In 2018, it was bought by the French cheese giant Savencia Fromage & Dairy, and now operates as a subsidiary of that Paris-based corporation. Their flagship Rogue River Blue went on to be named World Champion Cheese at the 2019/2020 World Cheese Awards in Italy — the first American cheese ever to win that honor. I’m proud of that, and I still love serving Rogue Blue on a special-occasion cheese board and sending it to a very few friends for the holidays.
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| Happy cows at the Rogue Creamery before it closed |
But the little dairy farmstand out on Lower River Road clearly didn’t fit the new corporate model. The Grants Pass farm store, with its grilled cheese sandwiches, the cows, and the picnic tables by the river, is gone now, while the more efficient Central Point shop and the global cheese machine roll on.
It’s a strange thing, watching a place you love slip away: the grilled cheese sandwiches, the cows, the feeling that something local and ours was still hanging on. I can get sentimental about cheese, apparently. I’m sad about it, sad that so much feels like it’s changing or being swallowed up. And yet here I am, part of this new world that’s replacing the old.
On that same day, the first day of November, after we returned from the dump and a lovely breakfast, I discovered that there was no hot water coming from any faucet in the house. After eight years of service, our water heater decided to give up the ghost.
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| It takes some time to find this information on the water heater. Mexico? |
Doing without hot water isn’t the worst thing in the world. We have a stove and heat, and electricity, and plenty of cold water. We have a hot tub to at least rinse our bodies each night in lovely hot water under the stars, IF and when we could see them, but that is another story about November: the unrelenting fog, day and night, with only a few afternoon breaks during the entire month.
Mo has one of those homeowner fix-it plans, and once again, they came through for us. The final repair for the new water heater installation was much less than we would have had to pay without the insurance. Only two years ago, we replaced a dead refrigerator with the same insurance. Yes, six to eight years seems to be the life span of most appliances these days, even the good ones. When we built this house, we did not buy cheap stuff.
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| Mattie knows the best way to enjoy cold foggy days |
In spite of the unrelenting fog and the crazy house problems, I spent a lot of November feeling grateful. It was chilly, foggy, and rainy, but I was warm and dry, with a cozy house wrapped around me. I had ten bucks in my pocket to treat myself to a great coffee while I was out shopping. I could buy groceries without worrying about it. I slept several nights with little pain. There is so much to be grateful for, so many things I have that so many don’t.
As I wrote last month, Mo has had homeowners and vehicle insurance policies with Farmers since 1997 and has never made a claim. It seems that even though the Oregon Fire Risk Map created last year was legally challenged, it still had an effect on how people are insured in our state. Farmers said we were in a high-risk zone in the urban interface and therefore they were no longer insuring homes in this area.
That led to a bit of panic, and we searched for a company that would still insure us. As I wrote last month, late in October, we did find a new agent and a new company, and after a lot of stress, we were again insured. Of course, no longer having a homeowners policy with Farmers increased the rates for the vehicles, and that was just plain irritating. Mo canceled all her policies with Farmers, and at last, toward the very end of the month, the insurance thing was handled.
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| Our Douglas-fir before the trim |
What that entailed was a bit traumatic. The new insurance company sent an aerial photo of our property (which I posted with last month's blog), saying we had to remove any and all branches and limbs that were overhanging any outbuildings. We do have some huge trees. Our Douglas-fir and Ponderosa pine qualify as old growth, between 170 and 200 years old.
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| Some neighbors were a bit shocked after the trim |
Once again, we called Rico, our fabulous tree guy, and he came out with an estimate for trimming back the big fir and some of the old oaks to qualify. It was stressful watching that old fir get trimmed up so high, and even with all that trimming, there was still a hint of a branch overhanging the MoHo shed by a few feet. Those branches were seventy feet up, but we weren’t sure about passing the inspection.
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| We call him "monkey man", the most amazing tree climber |
Mo spent nearly every day raking leaves and tree debris, and we hauled eleven loads in the trailer to the dump. Some people try to burn their leaves, but for us it’s nearly impossible with the very few burn days that seem to occur when everything is soaking wet from fog and rain. So off to the dump we go. Mattie loves it because there is always a doggy treat at the pay kiosk.
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| This photo was taken AFTER one of Mo's many raking projects |
By the end of the month, the trees were trimmed, the leaves almost gone, the appliances all working, and the house and cars finally insured. Our agent said he had heard nothing about the visual inspection, and no news is probably good news.
We took a little break on Veterans' Day for something we have done almost every year since Applebee's began their free meal for veterans back in 2008. Deb joined us and took this picture of Mo and me enjoying a nice meal. We like the hometown comfort of our local Applebee's restaurant, and the new merger with IHOP didn't seem to change much, except for some breakfast items on the menu. The best part of this small celebration is seeing all the vets from all the different eras that come in for their honorary meal. Many Viet Nam hats that day in Grants Pass. What Mo and I remember most about the Applebee's meal in Klamath Falls was the restaurant full of current military men from the Kingsley Field Base celebrating with their families.
In the midst of all the house worries, I finished the book selected for my book club. It was a quick read, entertaining but not particularly memorable or challenging. I decided to pick up an old book that I had treasured and read at least two decades ago.
Prodigal Summer, by Barbara Kingsolver, wrapped around me in a way few books do, warm, earthy, insistent. It’s a story about cycles, growth, decay, and renewal, which felt just right for November. Every character wrestles with something they can’t quite control: the pull of family, the tug of desire, the stubborn will of the natural world. Maybe that’s why her books still fit me. They allow for loose ends. They honor the tangled parts of life without insisting that everything be tied up with a bow. Still, the open end of Prodigal Summer left me unsettled.
The book affected me differently than it did years ago, when I first read it sitting in a big chair watching Northern Idaho snow drift past the windows. Back then, the world still felt wide open. This time, I found myself sinking into the layers, the questions, the way memory takes me back to a place. Kingsolver writes landscapes the way other people write characters, and reading her now feels like walking into a familiar house and noticing the wallpaper has changed.
At eighty, part of what unsettles me about open endings is knowing I won’t see the endings of so many stories around me, my great-grandchildren, my daughters, the country I love. Maybe that’s why an unfinished story leaves me feeling a little unmoored. Still, the beauty is in the living, not the knowing. I want to savor what I can while I’m here to watch the fog mute the colors outside the windows.
I’m glad I am at the end of life and not at the beginning. I don’t have to figure out how the story will end. What I have instead is the pleasure of noticing small mercies, warm rooms, familiar books, the last grilled cheese from a place that mattered.
Thanksgiving was the perfect ending to a thoughtful and sometimes tough month. Daughter Deborah decided to host this year, choosing to have her big turkey dinner on the actual day in her home for the first time since she bought it.
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| Matthew and Katty waiting for dinner at Deb's |
She cooked and decorated, and on Thursday, our meal was everything our family loves about sharing Thanksgiving. The recipes that are traditional recipes are the ones that are the most comforting. I made the orange-brandied yams that I’ve made since the early 80s. I made a simple dressing without any fancy stuff, delicious and loved by everyone. Deb managed to spatchcock the turkey, and it cooked perfectly. She made her original creamed vegetable, which has also been a family favorite for years.
We had a perfect table of five, with grandson Matthew and his sweetie Katty, Mo and me, and of course our hostess, Deborah.
Melody and Robert chose to host Thanksgiving at their home in Brownsville for their kids and spouses, and then to travel south on Friday to share another Thanksgiving meal of “leftovers” at Deb’s.
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| Melody and Robert waiting for Thanksgiving Number 2 at Deb's |
Once again, we had a perfect table of five, with Melody and Robert, Mo and me, and our hostess, Deborah.
Even though we didn’t all sit at the table on the same day, it didn’t matter one bit. We had family time and great food, and lots of hugs all around.
Melody and Robert spent the night here at Sunset House, and there is nothing I love more than waking in the morning to the smell of coffee and the sight of my son-in-law and my daughter in jammies on the couch, snuggled up with knitting.
When the month finally settled, I found myself grateful for the love around me and for the simple comfort of knowing I am exactly where I need to be.
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| So grateful for Home |
