02-02-2022 January Journal

Most of January has been introspective. The fog lingered from the beginning of the month to almost the very end with only a day or two of respite. I have spent many moments lost in attempting to figure out the meaning of the complex dreams that have haunted my early morning hours of sleep. Dreams that are filled with people and work, landscapes familiar and unknown, roads that go nowhere, and lost cars, keys, and even homes.

I wake to darkness, checking out the window to see if the fog has lifted, and make small attempts to find meaning in the purpose of each season of my life. In one dream I was training young soil scientists to do what I used to do in ways that I did it, and they showed me new ways that they are doing the work I used to do. On that particular morning, I also dreamed that I was running, strong and lithe, running for miles, enthralled by the strength and stamina of my legs and breath. Those kinds of dreams can bring a shock when the waking me attempts to hobble to the bathroom in the darkness.

The fog is often freezing, and I have to remember to bring in the hummingbird feeders in at night or to thaw them out in the morning. The one or two little birds that depend on this feeder throughout the winter need me to pay attention. We traveled nowhere in January, except for one short day trip to Klamath Falls.  I have no exciting stories or photos of trips to beaches or mountains or deserts to share with you this month.  Just a few random thoughts here and there.

Mo spent many days working on a damaged door of my sewing table, coming back inside at dinner time with frozen hands and red cheeks. She is much better at weathering the cold than I am. It takes every bit of internal discipline that I can muster to get me to go outside when it is cold.

On one day, the sunshine came out by noon and the temperature got up to 50 degrees by 4PM. I managed to get outside long enough to rake and clear a couple of flower beds. Pretty sure that is the extent of my accomplishments for the month, but maybe if I search around I can find a couple more. I am lucky.  I still enjoy bi-weekly coffee dates with my newest friend, Kristin, and Sunday visits from my daughter Deborah, often including a late Sunday breakfast to share.  I have phone conversations with Maryruth, and talks with friends here and there.  I do the shopping and cleaning and other household stuff that keeps me feeling at least a bit useful. I made a small table cover for a living room side table after drumming up enough energy to put out a very few decorations for the coming Valentine’s Day season.  A flag, a wreath, nothing like my crazy all-out décor for Christmas, or for fall.

Yesterday, the sun was once again shining and even in the cold temperatures, Mo stayed outside for hours raking the last of the leaves that had accumulated in our roadside drainage ditch and loading them into the trailer. Tomorrow we will go to the compost facility and hopefully, that will be the last load of debris that we haul to the dump from 2021.

My solution to the cold and fog of January is to start another puzzle, clean the living room end of the house on Friday, wash the sheets and clean the bedrooms on Monday. I cook dinners, and while we are eating, I am trying to think up what I will cook for the next day if we don’t have enough for leftovers.

Toward the end of the month, my book group met at the home of one of our members for a great discussion of the books we each gave and received at our December Christmas meeting. It was a bit of a mish-mash, with everyone talking at once sometimes, and too much to discuss. Made me glad that most of the time we have only one book on the agenda, and the reader's book club questions are reasonably straightforward.

Laura on the left was our hostess for the evening.  Joan is our eldest member.  Kristin on the right.

Robyn, our youngest, brings the perspective of youth and art, trained in Portland

Sarah, our fearless leader of the group, willing to herd the cats (women) into coherent discussions

The next day, I told Mo I had had enough of the fog and that weather cams were showing brilliant sunshine in the Klamath Basin. All we had to do was go up, and we could be out of the fog. We left early, still in a frosty fog, but within a few miles toward the mountains with a bit of a rise in elevation, we found ourselves in brilliant sunshine. Even with the recent snows, the roads were clear, with icy spots in the shaded parts but nothing to worry about.

I wanted to see the birds. I knew there were geese and swans somewhere in the refuge south of town. We weren’t in a big hurry, though, and took the time to revisit our old homes.

Last photos we took of the Rocky Point house when we made the final move in 2016

The road that Mo used to plow leading to her past home in Rocky Point was shaded and still snowed in. We spun a bit in the Lexus but managed to get turned around and back down to Rocky Point Road without getting stuck. Neither of us missed that old drive and plowing and shoveling that snow.

Continuing east toward Klamath Falls, we drove into town and up to the Pacific Terrace area to see how my old house on Painter Street was doing. It makes my heart so happy to see that little house so very much loved and cared for by the sweet couple who bought it. We stopped in the alley to check it out and they were in the yard. Kind and friendly as always, they asked if I wanted to come in. I had already seen what a great job they did with the little house a few years ago so didn’t need to bother them. Still, Mo and I were tickled to see how much they had done to the outside as well, with new fences and landscaping, new deck, a new roof, new air conditioning, a new gas fireplace. So many things that I didn’t have the resources to do when I was living there. It was a sweet visit.

 
New owners of the Painter Street House

Same spot back in 2003 right after I bought this sweet little house. Sold in 2015.

We then drove north of town to check out Mo’s apartments. She bought them in the mid-’90s, and we lived in them for two years while we were transitioning from the Rocky Point house to our Sunset House here in Grants Pass. Old blog readers (not many of you left anymore) will remember the months we spent with 4 properties, driving between all of them with our trailer filled with the tractor and lawnmower and yard tools trying to keep everything maintained.

The apartments looked very full, with lots of vehicles parked about. We kept cars contained when we lived there but now this area is lined with vehicles. The guy who bought the apartments is part of an extended family and I am sure everyone is happy to have the five apartments to park their relatives and space to park their cars. In addition, the old abandoned warehouse across the street is abandoned no more, with tons of big equipment and vehicles and what appeared to be a lot of noisy activity going on. Nope, we don’t miss the apartments either, although they served a wonderful purpose for us over the years.

On the way to the refuge, we stopped at the cemetery to place some flowers on the spot where Mo’s parents are buried. Later, I stopped in at Tater Patch Quilt store in Merlin, one of the greatest quilt stores in the state of Oregon. I do miss being close to Tater Patch, but it no doubt saves me a lot of money to not have that temptation closer then a full 4 hours drive.

By the time we got to the Tulelake National Wildlife Refuge, it was afternoon. We drove the entire west side of the sump areas, usually completely flooded and filled with birds. Not a bird in sight.

Same location in 2015 when Judy the Bird Lady of Blogland was a volunteer at the refuge

I was heartbroken when I saw the drained wetlands of the Tulelake Wildlife Refuge until I did some searching and found that the cracked, dry bottom of the wetlands aren’t completely caused by drought. Every few years, to keep the wetlands healthy, they need to be drained so that emergent vegetation has a chance to grow once again. The drought is ever-present and even with the rains from last fall, is still extreme. There isn’t enough water for all the birds, fish, rivers, and people who need it. Too much allocated and not enough to go around, all beginning with the days back in 1906 when the wetlands were drained and the Klamath Project was created to make productive farmlands out of a magnificent wet wilderness, once called the Everglades of the West.

Back then, it never occurred to anyone that eventually there might not be enough water to go around, that the climate might change, that the rains might not continue as they did back then during a historical wet period. It is an ongoing story, an ongoing fight. I was thrilled to see a recent article reach the national news in the Washington Post. It was probably the best article I have read in all the years I have studied and worked in the Klamath Basin, presenting the problems from all perspectives: the fish, the lake, the rivers, the salmon, the Tribes, the ranchers, the farmers, the people just trying to live on land where the wells are going dry. The story as always made me cry inside. Fabulously written and beautifully photographed, it is worth searching out if you are inclined to do so. Here is the link: Klamath Basin Crisis

I thought that perhaps there was still water on the east side of the refuge, and later photos from birders in the area confirmed my suspicion. Still, we were getting a bit tired, and neither of us felt like driving the dusty miles across the refuge to see if maybe there were some birds on the other side by the petroglyphs south of the town of Tulelake.

Instead, we drove back to Klamath Falls and enjoyed a truly fabulous late Mexican lunch at our old hangout, Sergio’s. Despite all the wonderful restaurants in Grants Pass, we have yet to find a Mexican place with the perfect ambiance and good food that we have had at this little spot in Klamath Falls.

We knew we could find birds in Veteran’s Park, and sure enough, when we drove there we found pigeons, ducks, some geese, and lots of seagulls hanging around the park docks. On the way back home, we found more birds on Upper Klamath Lake, but they were far from the shoreline, beyond the ice covering the shadowy edges of the lake. At least we saw some Canada geese and of course, hundreds of coots.

We headed back over the Cascades, over the High Lakes Pass, and as we dropped down into the Rogue Valley east of Medford we watch the sunset over the mountains to the west. We were home by dark, and after a long day in sunlight, I felt refreshed and ready to tackle a few more winter days in Grants Pass.

Later in the month, my eldest daughter celebrated a birthday and her only desire was to have a long lunch at her favorite spot, The Twisted Cork. This small, somewhat intimate restaurant in downtown Grants Pass is upscale in a good way, with beautiful wine flights, and a fabulous appetizer menu. Deb’s favorite thing is a wine flight, a bunch of appetizers, a great salad, and of course the dessert that Twisted Cork has made famous, their hot caramel toffee pudding. They were kind enough to add a candle for Deborah’s day. The sun came out for Deborah on the 26th as well, and we haven’t had a single foggy morning since then.

Mo just rolls her eyes at me when I complain about the fog, because she remembers me complaining about the heat as well. Yeah, fog is icky and so is 110 degrees! I know I shouldn’t be a slave to the weather, but it is definitely one of my less desirable qualities.

Daughter Deborah helped us finish another puzzle on one of her Sunday visits

At this moment, as I begin to attempt the process of writing about January, the sunshine is pouring through the windows of the office. It isn’t warm outside, but the skies are clear and blue, and Mo is outside doing whatever outside things have caught her fancy at the moment. It will be time to make supper soon, and the afternoon shadows on the lawn are waning.

I managed to get through January here without losing my way completely. Still, it seemed to be a long month, one that stretched on and on without much to mark the passing of the days. After the last couple of years of craziness, I have to say that a month that seemed to be in slow motion was much better than months that fly by so fast you can’t catch them.

December 2020

The sun is shining brilliantly through the office windows.  After a morning thick with heavy fog, it seems almost a miracle. Maybe that is what we need.  A miracle to come after the difficulties of the day before this one.  We need some sunlight to shine on us.  On all of us.  Some optimism, a reason to hope for a better year ahead.  I have struggled with trying to write this post.  It is easy to write about travels and camping trips, fish and chips at the coast, rain on the roof of the MoHo.  It is easy to be in the moment when traveling, maybe that is why we love it so much.

The rare sunny afternoon at Sunset House in December

The break in fog and rain gave us a chance to rake and haul the last of the oak leaves

It isn’t so easy to write about family gatherings, holidays that have been quite different than past years.  December darkness, more days of deep fog and dark skies than I remember even in Grants Pass.  We wake in the morning and it is dark, with light penetrating the fog only after 7:30 or so.  By 3:30 we are surprised to see the darkness descending again and by 5:15 it is pitch dark. 

This is actually a bit better than it was two weeks ago when it was pitch dark at 5.  Solstice has come and gone and the days are getting longer, miniscule second by second. I guess that is why a day like this, when the sun bursts through illuminating every tiny green blade of grass with a golden halo it seems like a miracle.

The Christmas season for us started even before Thanksgiving when I put up the outside Christmas lights.  Once again, we had help from Grandson Matthew, young and agile enough to climb our tall roof and line the edges of the gutters and the roof shingles all the way around the house.  Even though our home is just one story, the western side of the house is more than 18 feet off the ground, thanks to our sloping lot.  I know I wouldn’t manage to get up on the roof and even though Mo was a famed roof climber not so long ago, she isn’t about to climb up there either.  If Matthew moves away we are in big trouble.

Here in Southern Oregon our restaurants opened enough that one of our favorites, The Twisted Cork, advertised a special Sunday brunch, reservations only, limited indoor seating.  We were excited, made reservations for a birthday celebration downtown with friends Maryruth and Gerald, who celebrate December birthdays, and Daughter Deborah and Grandson Matthew to join us for the party limited to six guests.  Sadly that all fell apart when the numbers in our county began rising and once again dining was limited to outdoor seating only.  The Twisted Cork decided that with the cold and very wet weather, it was too much, and cancelled the party.

Mo and I decided the heck with that and I called Deborah and said, “Let’s do our own brunch for Maryruth and Gerald!”  Daughter Melody also drove south from Eugene for a Christmas time visit.  Her honey Robert had to travel for two weeks, returning before Christmas so she decided to quarantine at home for Christmas Day rather than taking a chance on Robert carrying the virus with him from Texas on an airplane. We had our little bubble of six and Deborah and I had fun trying to make the Sunday brunch as decadent as possible. 

We made real eggs benedict, and had lots of fruit and fruit dip choices, and Deborah made homemade pastries and we had lots of very cold champagne to wash it down.  It was such a simple but lovely way to spend a day with our friends.  In fact, we all decided that it was much more fun that it would have been in the restaurant.

The next week before Christmas we made a date with Maryruth and Gerald to drive around town to see all the Christmas lights.  It was great fun, and there were some truly fabulous light shows to enjoy.  I must say that the winner, a computerized laser light show with music to match, left me unmoved.  It wasn’t very Christmasy, and while quite loud and glitzy, it didn’t feel right. 

We discovered that the people in cars piling up all around in the tiny cul de sac where the lights were blaring didn’t agree with us.  It was incredibly popular.  We tried to follow the newspaper printed maps, tried to use google, but the four of us wore out before we could see all the various neighborhoods that were recommended. 

Grants Pass isn’t very big, but it was too big for us to cover it all that night.  Maryruth and I both grew up in Southern California, with amazing memories of Christmas Tree Lane and Story Book Lane in Pasadena, and the most amazing Christmas light neighborhood ever in a high end housing development that at the time was called Hastings Ranch.  Every single street was decorated with a matching theme for each one,  It was something to see and one of my best kid memories.  Maryruth felt exactly the same way. Still, we loved our lighted evening in Grants Pass and topped it off with hot chocolate from the downtown Dutch Brothers, just a block from where the chain was first established.

When Christmas actually came, Mo and I were perfectly content to enjoy Christmas Eve with just the two of us and probably the very best clam chowder I have ever made.  It’s a tradition for us, the closest I am willing to get to my childhood Christmas Eve oyster stew, which thank goodness I was never forced to eat. We topped off our evening with another drive around Grants Pass, finding the neighborhoods that we had previously missed and noticing with surprise how many homes were surrounded by many cars as people were gathering for the holiday in spite of the warnings.

On Christmas Day I invited Maryruth and Gerald and Deborah again for Christmas ham, another tradition that we seem to repeat each year.  I buy ham once a year, either Christmas or Easter, and the leftovers in the freezer are enough for some bean soup and scalloped potatoes and ham throughout the year.  We sat around in the living room together with whatever YouTube channel was Christmasy and enjoyed the company until early evening when Deborah decided to brave the heavy rain to drive the hour long trip back to Shady Cove and Maryruth and Gerald retreated the short mile back to their home.

The day after Christmas, with no more company to come for a meal, we pulled out another great puzzle.  The Paint the Town series by Eric Dowdle is great fun, and he even has a PBS show about each town that he visits.  It only took us a bit less than 3 days to find all the little people and figure out the many high rise buildings in the beautiful Portland puzzle.

New Years Eve was even more quiet than Christmas, with no visits and no real celebrations except for the local fireworks and gunshots that in our somewhat rural neighborhood started up around 9 and kept going until long after midnight.  I think I woke up for a minute or two at 12, and thought about the New Year to come.  The calendar is such a man made thing, and the days just shift as they will do.  Who knows if the energy of a year changes just because a man made number has changed, but this afternoon in the sunlight I can feel a bit of hope.  Vaccines are coming…eventually.

One more Christmas behind us and look at that sunshine

Our travels for the coming year have already shifted in spite of the hope of 2021 being a bit more free than 2020 was.  We had planned to travel south to California for our annual desert trip toward the end of January, but have put that plan on hold.  I just can’t get really excited about traveling through California yet.  I called Catalina Spa and learned that the pools are open but the spa and showers are closed as are most of the other amenities.  With restaurants and movies and such being closed in Southern California, and COVID numbers off the charts, the trip just didn’t seem very smart.  We will wait, and maybe travel south in March.  If things in California haven’t improved by then, we may slide south through Nevada into wild places in the desert where we can boondock without worrying much about running into too many people.

Our other big travel plans included a May cruise to Scotland, cancelled last year but still on the books to depart from London on May 22.  We will wait for Oceania to cancel this one before we make any big decisions about it, but something tells me our cruise to Scotland will not happen again this year.  It takes a long time for cruise ships to get going again, if they ever do.  I spoke with my doctor this week during a virtual checkup and was told that I shouldn’t expect to get a vaccination for weeks and possibly months in this part of Oregon.  Each state has their own priorities, and for Oregon it is health care workers with folks over 75 a bit farther down on the list.  I guess, just like 2020, 2021 is still a wait and see year. 

06-20-2018 The Family Gathers

We are home in Grants Pass after traveling once again to the Oregon Coast for a few days.  Mo’s brother Roger passed away last summer and his wife and daughters thought that it would be a good thing to have the family gather at one of his favorite places for a bittersweet good bye.

The Five Oukrop Siblings, Dan, Edna, Roger, Sharon (Mo), and Don at a family reunion in 2012

South Beach State Park is just a couple of miles south of the sweet coastal town of Newport, and boasts 227 sites with electric and water, and 27 yurts, 14 of them dog friendly.  Roger’s wife Nancy started planning the event many months ago, calling on the first day of availability to reserve several yurts and several RV sites, all within close proximity to each other.  She also arranged reservations for some of the out of town relatives without camping vehicles to stay at the nearby Holiday Inn Express. 

When I counted everyone that was present in the family photo there were 41 family members there. The majority live in Oregon, but some came from Illinois, Washington State and Colorado to bid Roger a last goodbye.

The Oukrop clan is an amazing family, and as the years have passed I have seen the family reunions shift as the sons and daughters of Mo’s brothers and sister are now having sons and daughters of their own.  Mo and I are amazed at all the little kids running around that are now part of the ever expanding family.

South Beach is a great location for these kinds of gatherings, especially for a physically active and sports minded family like this one.  The park boundary begins at the southern edge of Newport along the Yaquina Bay Bridge and stretches several miles to the south.  There are walking trails and paved bike trails in addition to miles of sandy beaches. 

I love walking the beach here because unlike most Oregon Coast beaches which are rugged and rocky, this one is broad and flat, separated from the campground by dunes and sea grasses, much like some of the beaches in Florida. 

We traveled I-5 north to Sutherlin and then turned west toward the ocean following the route of the Umpqua River.  Almost every road that crosses the coast range between the valley and the ocean is rugged and curvy, and this was no exception.  It isn’t a scary road at all, just a bit narrow, and with a few surprising curves.  The day was incredibly gorgeous, with temperatures going into the 90’s inland near home and dropping by degrees to the low 60’s as we approached the beach.

We arrived late afternoon, just about the same time as the rest of the group, and were happy to set up camp and then go to town for dinner with the rest of the RV campers.  The Chowder Bowl is a little seafood restaurant in the part of Newport called Nye Beach, and has never been a disappointment.  I ordered the special, chipotle shrimp tacos, and Mo’s sister in law Chere reminded me that I ordered the very same thing 2 years ago when we gathered with family at this same restaurant.  Of course, that time, Roger was still with us.

We woke the next morning to cloudy skies, but the temperatures weren’t terribly chilly, just enough for a jacket for our long morning walk on the beach.  Later in the day, some of the family gathered at the beach as well, and I had a great time trying to photograph the little kids doing all that little kid stuff.

The littlest ones at the beach (photo courtesy of Ginny Taylor Don’s daughter) 

Brother Don and his son Lanson

Lanson’s son Ryder

Lanson’s wife Mandy catching up with her mother-in-law Wynn. They are a very close family.

That evening there was another gathering of people around the motorhomes with shared horseshoes, good food, and campfires. 

On Friday we drove south to the Beaver Creek boat launch.  Brother Don brought his sleek wooden kayak in addition to another tandem kayak and we had our two kayaks. 

The two older boys, Roger’s grandson Logan, and Dan’s grandson Owen won the kayak lottery and we had a great time on the water.

We had kayaked Beaver Creek in the past, but this time it was prettier, even though the wind did come up on the return trip downriver.

Another gathering of food and family around the campfire that evening rounded out the day. Sitting around the campfire it seems that much of the entertainment involves watching the little kids.  I also love watching the mom’s doing their mom thing.  Each of Don’s offspring have 3 kids, and they are all close in age, so I get a big kick out of watching all of them without having to do a thing except watch. I was mother to 4 of my own, all very close together, and I remember how that felt.  Ahhh…so nice to be old.

I enjoyed the chance to get to know some of the family members I hadn’t met before, including Dan and Chere’s son Zach and his wife Amy, with their two boys, and their daughter Rachel and husband Mike and their two kids.

Saturday morning finally brought a gorgeous sunrise with the promise of a lovely sunny day ahead, perfect for the main event for this family gathering.

Dan and I rose at 5:30 every morning to take the dogs for a walk on the quiet deserted beach

In addition to arranging all the camping and hotel facilities, Nancy also set up a lovely memorial celebration held at the beautiful Oregon Coast Aquarium in town.  It was a lovely venue, with the event room located at the edge of the bay in a beautiful garden with the big shark tank decorating one of the walls of the room. 

We had an hour to socialize, then an hour to eat some truly good food, and then an hour to share thoughts of Roger with those who loved him and knew him.  As Mo and I were getting ready, we were concerned that 3 hours seemed like a really long time for such a gathering, but it wasn’t at all, it was just perfect.

Roger’s niece Ginny remembering her uncle

Roger’s elder sister Edna spoke beautifully about her beloved little brother

Don gave a moving tribute to his elder brother

When the memorial was over, everyone drifted out into the aquarium grounds to enjoy the exhibits.  It was a wonderful way to let some of the sadness of the memorial dissipate as we walked around in the sun and watched the animals. 

On our final evening at the beach, Nancy and her daughters planned to spread the rest of Roger’s ashes in this place he loved.

We gathered up big bundles of firewood, (no beach driftwood), and with chairs and jackets headed for the beach. 

Some were a bit worried about whether we could actually get a campfire started with the wind blowing so strongly, but a cardboard box full of kindling and fatwood did the trick just fine.  The fire burned like it was fueled by a blowtorch.

Once the fire was going, Nancy and her daughters, Randi, Juli, and Angi, walked down to the water together with Roger’s ashes.  As cold as it was, they walked out into the surf and let the ashes return to the ocean that Roger loved so very much. 

We returned to the bonfire, and just a few minutes later we looked out to sea and there they were.  Whales!  We saw the first spout and then more and more as several whales were traveling just beyond the surf. If there was one thing Roger loved, it was playing in the water.  The whales never breached, but I think they were calling Roger to come and play with them.