The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

This monthly thing is getting to be a pleasant habit. I no longer feel guilty for not writing about every single thing that we did on a day-to-day basis. The only problem is that I am feeling a need to come up with monthly adjectives for the title. Nifty seemed quite nice after almost choosing numinous, but I discovered that in addition to “a spiritual quality”, numinous could indicate religious significance. Not so much. I must say, however, that the brilliant colors of November were definitely spiritual.

November for us was a beautifully quiet month, dominated by the spectacular colors of the oaks here at home and the many varieties of hardwood trees that are part of our city. Grants Pass is a “River City”, but it is also designated as a “Tree City USA” by the Arbor Day Foundation. As one of more than 3,400 cities in the country, these cities must meet certain standards There must be a Tree Board or Department legally responsible for the care of all trees on city-owned property, a Public Tree Care Ordinance, a Community Forestry Program, and an Arbor Day Observance.

I didn’t know any of this when I first moved here. I was awed by the trees that are planted here. Our native slopes surrounding the city are a mix of conifers and oaks, with color limited to muted oranges and tans, and maybe a bit of bright yellow for the cottonwoods.

But in town, the brilliant reds, pinks, and hot orange colors are dominated by sweet gums, maples, and red oaks. Every spring I think maybe I love the warmth and colors of the spring the best, but this fall I knew that nope, it is fall that is my favorite season.

Fall lasts a long time here, with the leaves beginning to change in mid-October and reaching their peak color in early November. The last of the leaves hold on until December.

This year it rained so much during leaf season that Mo and I had to wait for somewhat dry days to get all those leaves raked, loaded, and hauled to the local compost facility. It is always a big job, and every year I look up at those 170-year-old oaks on our property and say, Thank You. Thank you for the wonderful shade and protection you give to our home in the hot summers, the brilliance of opening leaves in spring, and most of all the gorgeous warmth of fall.

A few other simple joys filled the early days of November, including a visit from a long-time friend from Northern Idaho. Joan and her husband Gordon finally decided to give up their summer life on Lake Pend Oreille near Sandpoint and move permanently to Moro Bay, California. She wrote to me asking if she could spend a night with us here on her way south. It was a sweet visit, made even more special because Daughter Deborah knew Joan from the years she shared in the women’s group that Joan and I were part of for almost 15 years. Sweet times, and sweet memories.

On November 11, Deborah joined us for the traditional Veteran’s Day dinner at Applebee’s to honor Mo’s military service. It is a tradition Mo and I have followed ever since the day more than 12 years ago when we stopped at an Applebee’s in Ukiah, California on our way home from a trip south. We had no clue Mo was eligible for a free meal that day, and since then we have managed to find an Applebee’s to enjoy almost every year.

Mo and I spent a lovely afternoon at the Grants Pass Performing Arts Center thrilling to a wonderful rendition of a violin solo of the Lark Ascending and Brahm’s First Symphony. Our conductor often chooses interesting music and at each concert that we attend as part of our subscription, I learn much about music that I didn’t know. Even though I played Brahms and Beethoven on the piano, I never knew that Brahms was intimidated by Beethoven and spent 26 years writing music before he attempted this first symphony.

Of course, the big event every November is Thanksgiving. We were excited to once again have the chance to host the holiday here at home. My grandkids living in Albany weren’t able to come, but Daughter Melody and Robert drove from Brownsville to spend the day and the night, Daughter Deborah and Grandson Matthew and Matthew’s sweetheart joined us, and best friends Maryruth and Gerald rounded out the party.

As always, I had fun creating an interesting Thanksgiving table. I have too many dishes, and too much stuff, and am always attempting to downsize a bit. Instead, I needed some new placemats, a few seasonal plates and amber goblets to add to the atmosphere. Yes, decorating is an addiction that I fully admit.

We had a traditional dinner, with roast turkey, dressing, and gravy. I made the orange-brandied yams I have made for 4 decades but added the tiny marshmallows to the top for old-time sake. Deb made her classic creamed vegetables and Melody contributed her famous apple pie with the most perfect crust ever. Robert contributed his famous deviled eggs for our before-dinner appetizer and his also famous potato casserole. It was a perfect dinner.

Melody and Robert are still knitting and crocheting with speeds that I can barely believe. I have been working on a sweater and managed to drop a bunch of stitches that I couldn’t pick up. I was devastated. Melody said on the phone to me, “Don’t worry, Mom, Robert can fix it”. And fix it he did. My sweater is once again on track and when December slows down a bit I can get back to knitting again. Robert would have it finished in days, and I think I might take a few months. I have had the yarn since I first started knitting in 2004, so maybe I will finish the sweater in 2025. Is 21 years a bit too long for knitting a sweater?

Mattie loves having company and loves getting Thanksgiving treats. Once everyone left she pouted for part of a day before deciding that Mo and I weren’t completely boring and we could go back to our regular routine.

Even though fall technically begins on September 21, October opened with summer-like temperatures and clear skies. Except for a very few scattered showers on June 16 and again on August 16, there has been no real rain at our home since early May. This isn’t unusual for Southern Oregon, but each year it seems like such a long dry spell and we wait impatiently for the winter rains to arrive. Once they do, we can turn off the sprinklers, quit worrying about having enough water to keep the trees and flowers and grass from frying in the dry heat, and relax into the next 6 to 7 months without stressing about the water situation.

October was completely dry until a beautiful midnight deluge dampened everything on October 21. By the time we woke up, it was gone, and by ten AM, the skies were a gorgeous clear blue. The good thing about this time of year is that the days are much shorter, the nights are much cooler, and the temperatures are usually below triple digits.

The plants respond accordingly, with roses blooming again and zinnias exploding with their early fall color. Zinnias are native to the grasslands of Mexico, Central America, and the southwestern United States and they love the heat. Still, the zinnias in my gardens don’t come into full brilliant color until late in the summer when the temperatures begin to cool a bit.

Early in the month, we were treated with a visit from middle daughter Deanna and her husband Keith. It is more than 600 miles for them to drive to visit us, but they made the effort to come so that they could share the joy of daughter Deborah’s new home. It was a short visit, just two nights, but we packed it with as much as we could. They stayed with Deb and spent much of the time with her, but came to our house on Saturday afternoon for drinks and flower walks before going out to a family dinner in town.

The Northwest Taprock Restaurant has always been a favorite here in Grants Pass in the past, but we heard some negative comments from folks visiting after it recently sold. Because of the location, we decided that even if the food was mediocre and the service less than stellar the setting was perfect to share with out-of-town guests. It was a perfect choice, with food that everyone loved and excellent service. As always, the view of the Rogue River was wonderful and a great spot for a late afternoon meal.

After we ate, the family walked down below the dining deck to be closer to the river and enjoy the small park and grounds filled with lovely sculptures, murals, and water features. It was a precious afternoon and I was so happy that they made the trip south to visit us.

The following weekend Deb and Mo and I spent an afternoon in the gardens at a vineyard we hadn’t visited often. Del Rio Vineyard is located near I-5 between Grants Pass and Medford and has thousands of acres of gorgeous vineyards extending up the slopes on the mountains east of the winery. Mo and I spent some time exploring the history of Del Rio on her birthday trip last March but we haven’t been wine-tasting there before this.

Our purpose wasn’t particularly wine-tasting as much as it was to enjoy the live music in the gardens at the winery. The duo that played were so much fun, with a repertoire of music mainly from the 60’s and 70’s. They both sang and played but the woman was especially impressive with her ability to sing in French, Spanish, and her final Irish blessing song sounded exactly like music Mo and I heard in Ireland. A wonderful, warm and sunny afternoon.

I put up Halloween decorations and Mo and I finally finished a puzzle from hell that we thought would never end and started a gorgeous Halloween puzzle that was a delight to behold.

We enjoyed an evening with Deborah at the Toasted Barrel with whiskey flights and yummy foods before going to see a play at our local theater.

Barnstormers is a very small but very sweet venue and the play we saw was “Gaslight”. Interesting choice for the theater people since “gaslighting” seems to be the word of choice during this election cycle and this play is where the term originated. There was a small warning that it could be upsetting for anyone who had been in an abusive relationship. Even though it was just a play, with a bit of silliness and melodramatic acting and language, I found the loud aggression on the part of the husband emotionally difficult.

The following Saturday Mo and I enjoyed another treat as part of our season subscription to the Rogue Valley Symphony. What we love most about this local symphony company is the conductor, Martin from the Czech Republic, leading the symphony for the last 15 years. There were three separate musical choices for this performance, with a technically strong pianist playing Mozart which left me cold. Sometimes the tinkly perfection of Mozart is a bit much. But the last performance by the symphony was the symphony by the French composer Saint Seans, written specifically to include an organ.

I was so enamored with the magnificent Steinway piano on the stage that I completely forgot to take a photo of the great pipe organ when they opened the wooden doors at the back of the stage for the performance.

This particular performance was held in Ashland and the Southern Oregon College Music Building because of the historic pipe organ located there. Our local performing arts center is almost identical except for one minor detail. The huge pipe organ at the SOU auditorium was the only way to fully experience the music as it was intended. Magnificent. When that organ hit those huge notes it was incredible. Needless to say, it was a standing ovation that lasted a very long time. Martin was quite pleased with himself and his musicians, obvious from the huge smile on his face as the music came to an end.

Just two days later we were packed and loaded for a trip to the coast, with reservations at Harris Beach. My long-time friend from Coeur D Alene, Laura, just purchased a new-to-her Roadtrek, and she was excited for her first “big” trip to the Oregon coast. We camped next to each other at Harris Beach State Park, as most of you readers know is a favorite for Mo and me.

Our first afternoon was a bit chilly, but it didn’t rain and Mo built a nice fire for us after our shared taco supper.

The next day was gorgeous, and we did our best to show our friends the best parts of this beautiful portion of the southern coast of Oregon. Laura and Judy were at the end of a trip down the coast beginning at South Beach and camping at the various state parks along Highway 101 on the way to Brookings. Most disappointing to Laura, however, was learning that when camping on the Oregon Coast your site is never actually on the beach, or not even necessarily close to the beach.

I explained about coastal weather, wind, rain, tides, and soft sand, all the factors that make camping right on the beach nearly impossible.

We spent most of the next day taking our friends to some of our favorite spots in Brookings. It is always fun walking out from the sewage plant to Chetco Point and fun to watch someone’s face when we say we are taking them to the “sewage plant”.

We drove down to Harbor, the community adjacent to Brookings where there is actually a campground almost on the beach. Mo and I camped at Beachfront RV Park last March during Spring Break when there wasn’t a space available a Harris Beach.

Later that afternoon we took advantage of the warm sunshine and at had a delicious seafood meal in the outside dining area at Catalyst Seafood. Mo and I have been coming here since a good portion of fish and chips was only $8.00, but this time we paid $18.00 for the same delicious fish minus the cole slaw which used to be included in the price.

After two days and nights at the beach, we returned home to Grants Pass by way of Highway 199 following the route of the spectacular Smith River. The road is winding and narrow, but Laura did a great job driving her motorhome on what some of our friends have said is a road they will never drive again.

On the way, we stopped for a short time at Jedediah Smith State Park to visit the magnificent redwoods. Both women had memories of seeing the redwoods many years ago, but it was nice to share the park and have another chance to walk among the giants.

By the time we returned home, unloaded the MoHo, and caught up on laundry and household chores, it was Halloween. With no trick-or-treaters visiting our home in the last 7 years since we have lived in this house, I decided I would spend Halloween with Daughter Deborah in her new home. She lives in a nice neighborhood, not fancy or overly expensive, but nice. We thought she might get a few people visiting her door.

She was prepared with chip bags instead of candy and a few lights to welcome kids to her doorway. At first, things were a bit too quiet, but before the evening was over she said there were somewhere between 70 and 80 trick-or-treaters visiting before she shut it down around 8:30 when the visitors dwindled and the older teenagers started showing up.

I called Mo on my way home to let her know I was coming, and she answered the phone in a tither. It seems that we got a mother and her two daughters at our door and Mo had nothing to give them. She was appalled and embarrassed and had to explain to them that we had nothing. I do get a bit carried away with the decorating, so with all the lights and decorations, it is no wonder they thought there might be treats. Since we live on a rural road with no sidewalks and no access I have given up on trick-or-treaters coming to our door. Never again. I will always be sure there is SOMETHING in the house to share, just in case.

I have been ruminating about this post for several days now, thinking about September past, and planning to write about it before October is also a memory. As I sit at the computer, however, I am overwhelmed with thoughts, messages, and images bombarding my mind. Daughter Melody has in-laws in Venice, Florida. Our dear friends near Asheville were at last able to communicate with all their friends and followers about dealing with Hurricane Helene. One last bookkeeping chore to handle before I begin writing, I must call Spectrum to cancel our internet service. We at last have access to the Hunter fiber network and it was installed a few days ago and is working perfectly.

The call to Spectrum is tedious and long, with the rep insisting that I listen to many options. After ten minutes or so, suddenly in the background, I hear a tornado siren and she exclaims, “Tornado!” “Where are you?”, I ask. “Florida, near Tampa”. “Why are you still working? Are you in a safe place?” “Spectrum won’t let us leave. I am working from home and am not allowed to stop taking calls. I need this job. I am terrified. My house is boarded up and we have sandbags, but one window is too big to board up”. We talked and cried and actually laughed together before my service was finally canceled and we hung up. I had to write about this because as I write the blog post, tornados are forming over much of Florida and Milton is bearing down like some sort of huge monster.

Here, the sun shines, and the temperatures are in the pleasant mid-70s. No fires, and no smoke to mar the skies. A bit of aurora borealis to make the solar flares adds some excitement to the nights. That’s it. How do I step out of this mental quagmire I am in and write about my la-la-la happy birthday month of September?

I am going to try. Wish me luck. Thinking I would skip the simple pleasures of the first half of September and jump right away into the surprising magic of our camping trip to Eagle Lake, California.

I read about Eagle Lake on Nina’s blog several years ago, and Mo and I have passed it a few times in our travels south near Susanville. We often thought it would be an interesting place to explore but never quite managed it. Medicine Lake is closer, and traveling that extra distance to a warmer lake in a more desert-like environment wasn’t that exciting.

Last spring I finally managed to get a reservation for three days at East Lake, in the Newberry Caldera. We have camped there several times, just last year meeting with Gaelyn to share the delights of the lakes and gorgeous views from nearby Paulina Peak.

Our plans were thwarted a few days before we were to arrive with Level 1 evacuation notices for the area surrounding Paulina Lake and East Lake. On the southern and eastern side of the caldera the evacuation level was 3, go now. I called Reserve America and they would not let me cancel without paying the 18. fees despite the evacuation notice. We decided that no matter how lovely the lake was, being surrounded by fire and smoke, and not having access to cell service during an evacuation notice wasn’t smart, so I canceled our reservation.

We looked around a bit and decided to try something new. I re-read Nina’s blog about the camping areas around Eagle Lake, including a free BLM campground and several boondocking areas on the north side of the lake. Looking at maps, we could see that the southern side of the lake was deeper and darker, with less evidence of a possible algae bloom, and more conducive to kayaking. Also, on the southern side of the lake, we found a few Forest Service campgrounds, administered by the Lassen National Forest. At this time of year, no reservations were required for Eagle Campground, which surprisingly had full and partial hookups available. We decided to enter the area from the northern side, check out the BLM areas, and then continue toward the southern side and the Forest Service Campgrounds.

What an amazing surprise! The campground was open and spacious, uncrowded, with beautiful views of the expansive lake. We settled into the partial hookup loop, knowing that the dump station was just across the road from the entrance to the campground. We decided to stay four nights rather than the three that we originally planned and settled in.

With a great cell signal and a cool, cloudy afternoon, I took time to read up on Eagle Lake, I have included this Wiki article because the ecology of Eagle Lake and the Eagle Lake trout which is only supported in this watershed is fascinating. I also learned a new word, endorheic, referring to a closed basin with no outflow. The lake is alkaline and non-native fish are unable to survive the alkalinity.

In the late afternoon, before dinner, Mo and I drove the three miles or so to the Marina. We wanted to check out the launch facility and see if it would be more conducive to launching than the muddy and distant shoreline near camp.

As we approached the marina, we heard loud honking and a cacophony of noise that signaled the largest group of American white pelicans we had ever seen. In all our years of kayaking in the Klamath Basin, where white pelicans are prolific, we have never seen this many in one spot. It was amazing.

The boat launch was in good condition, and even with somewhat low water levels, we could see that launching our kayaks wouldn’t be difficult. I was excited about the three days ahead that we had to relax and enjoy the lake and get our boats out on the water with the pelicans.

Mo and I decided to shift our campfire time to late afternoon. Sometimes staying up late for campfires isn’t exactly perfect, and marshmallow roasting is only something I do because it seems like I should do it, not because I especially love the marshmallows. We decided that Happy Hour before dinner was much more fun with a campfire, and Mo didn’t have to worry about us going to bed before the fire was fully out.

On our second day at Eagle Lake we searched maps for back roads that would get us a good view of the lake from a higher perspective. We meandered around a bit on rough dirt roads toward Osprey Point and a short trail that led to the overlook for a better view.

The back roads led us to a couple of lakeside areas with a few summer homes where we found access to a remote sandy beach where Mattie could run freely.

The cloudy weather that we experienced on our first day dissipated and the next morning the weather was perfect for our first launch on Eagle Lake. The launch was easy with a decent cement boat ramp right next to a dock that provided me with something to hold onto when I exited my boat. No rolling down into cold water to get out!

The most thrilling part of kayaking Eagle Lake, however, was the pelicans. Literally hundreds of them, in addition to hundreds of Western grebes, all calling and making a huge racket. Paddling around the pelicans was so much fun, and it was obvious that they weren’t the least bit concerned about us being near them.

We drove the Tracker to Susanville on our second morning at Eagle Lake in order to buy fuel so that we could explore back roads as much as we wanted. On our original route to the area, we drove from the north side of the lake along the western shore toward the campground. The road from the tiny community of Spalding was 15 miles of kathunk, kathunk, kathunk traveling across the pavement gaps meant to protect the road from frost heaves. It was awful, and we didn’t want to have to do that again.

Instead, the road south to Susanville was winding but reasonably smooth, with some great views overlooking the valleys toward the east into basin and range country. We had lunch at a small local cafe recommended by our camp host before traveling back north to the lake.

Even though it was about an hour longer to return to Oregon using the Susanville route, we were able to skip the rough pavement toward Spalding on the day we departed Eagle Lake.

Our last morning kayaking Eagle Lake was truly spectacular. The weather was perfect, the water was still, and the skies were gorgeous.

The Eagle Lake marina was charming and especially charming was the hostess, Gina. The store was well stocked, and the quality of the goods was excellent. I had to use self-control to avoid buying another cute cup, mug, tee shirt, or sweatshirt. Lots of fridge magnets and cute little things called my name but I resisted.

In addition, Gina was a wealth of information about fishing for the famous Eagle Lake trout. When I returned home I joined the Eagle Lake Facebook page and have enjoyed dozens of photos of very big trout, and many of them caught by Gina. Lots of smiles. I had to ask if they tasted good and was told they were the very best. Looking forward to taking my daughter Deborah to this lake. She loves to fish.

On our last afternoon, we did a bit more exploring around the lake, following a dirt track to the opposite shore from the campground. The landscape in this area was much more like the high desert area we are accustomed to on the east side of the Cascades. The entire area is influenced by the volcanic rocks of Lassen to the southwest and Mammoth Mountain to the southeast.

When planning this trip, Mo and I decided that we would make a loop traveling south over Mt Shasta via I-5 and then east toward the lake on our way down. Our return trip we traveled back north toward Klamath Falls with plans to cross the Cascades toward the west via Highway 140, a very familiar route for us after so many years of living in and near Klamath Falls.

However, by Friday afternoon we were worn out and decided that we could cut that trip in half with an overnight stay at the Kla-Mo-Ya casino in Chiloquin, north of Klamath Falls. Boondocking in the parking lot used to be free, but now the casino charges $10 per night to park. However, that also required getting a player’s card with a five-dollar gambling credit. Since it was my birthday month, I also got a chance to spin the birthday wheel and won another $40. to play with. I spent all that in the slot machines, winning enough money with that free money to go home with cash in my pocket after paying for a yummy breakfast in the casino restaurant. By the time we got home the next day we were well rested and ready for the usual unloading, laundry and cleaning that usually doesn’t happen until after we have been home for another day. It was a nice change.

The rest of September was quiet, with time to complete yard chores around home, do some basic gardening, and attend to haircuts, pedicures, and doctor appointments.

Daughter Deborah often comes to our house for Sunday brunch, but one Sunday she invited us to her home for coffee and goodies. It was nice to see all the work she has completed getting settled into her new home.

That afternoon a last-minute decision had the three of us visiting Red Lily Vineyards where at last Deb and I joined the wine club. Even though there are several wineries in our area that we love to visit, Red Lily is the only one that has wine I truly love.

The only cost is a commitment for Deb and I to buy a few bottles of wine every three months. Well worth it for the 30 percent discount we get for being members and especially nice that Deb and I could share the membership.

Another bit of entertainment that we shared with Deborah was a first-time visit to the Steam Distillery in Grants Pass. The venue was interesting and the food delicious. They are most famous for their on-site distilled spirits, but the food is extremely good as well. There is a food truck that cooks exclusively for the distillery and the menu varies at different times. The place was popular and quite loud, but we will return even though loud restaurants aren’t a favorite.

Just for fun, check out the waitress, blurred by the camera because she was always moving so quickly it was impossible to get a clear photo. Made me laugh out loud when I looked back over the photos.

As I review the month during the first weeks before our camping trip, I see a repeating pattern. In addition to having company over for snacks and cocktails, I enjoyed a coffee date with a book club friend at a lovely venue in Grants Pass I hadn’t yet seen.

Mo and I combined a doctor visit in Medford with a superb Mexican dinner at a restaurant new to us, El Paraiso. It was the best Mexican we have yet enjoyed anywhere in the Rogue Valley.

Our book club, now known as the KindRead Spirits met at another new venue in town, the Toasted Barrel. The snacks were excellent and I do hope to return someday when I am not driving to try out their whiskey flights.

Last but not least in this laundry list of fun for the month of September is my last birthday before I turn 80. It seemed as though I started getting cards and gifts at least a week before the actual date. Daughter Deborah took Mo and me to one of the nicest restaurants in Grants Pass for my birthday dinner which was excellent. The weather was wonderful and our outside table with a lovely view of the Rogue River was perfect, as was our meal.

I received a lovely handmade card from Loree. We have been friends for almost 20 years but have never met. I received a magical yard spinner from Daughter Melody and gorgeous David Austin roses from Daughter Deanna.

In addition to my birthday dinner from Deb, she added to my shelf of favorite drinkables. Mo topped off everything with a season pass to our local Rogue Valley Symphony. How incredibly lucky I am.

I will leave you now with an image of one of the last sunsets of September, viewed from our back deck. Somehow I feel much calmer now than I did at the beginning of writing this post. Wishing the best for everyone in the path of Milton tonight.

Sometimes writing about August can be a challenge. I often refer to the “dog days of August” since it is usually the hottest month. I dread the smoke, the stagnant air, the lack of rain, the drying grasses, and wilted flowers. It can be a difficult month.

This year was different. August had some heat, some wilting, and a bit of a water problem, but in the midst of it, there were some truly remarkable moments. I treasure the photo above because it reminds me of the beautiful, soaking rain that visited us for two days mid-month.

When our acre is dry and we are trying to parse water to the places that need it most, there is nothing quite so lovely as an August storm. There were dozens of fires burning east and south of us when the storm hit, but this time there was enough rain to dampen the fires enough that the smoke cleared. Our maximum temperatures during the third week of the month were up to 25 degrees F lower than average for this time of year. The lawns turned a rich green and the flowers brightened and recuperated from their summer struggle.

We began the month with a big treat to ourselves. We attended the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, about an hour south of us to see Macbeth.

Neither of us had ever seen the play or remembered reading it, although friends said they read it in high school. Some lines are so familiar, the one that seemed the funniest to me was, “Out, damn Spot”. I always thought that was about getting a dog out of the house.

The production was truly spectacular, but we both wished we had read more about the play before attending. Some of it was confusing and some was a bit overwhelming. I realized later that I was mentally confusing Macbeth with Hamlet. I told daughter Melody (the theater daughter)that at the time it was almost too much and I was so glad when it ended and yet when it was over and we thought about it we were both so glad that we went.

Afterward, we treated ourselves to Chinese food at a Medford restaurant that has good reviews. Another bust, with decent food that was fresh but without much flavor. It is easy to find “Asian” food and Thai food but any more it seems that Chinese food is passe and the few restaurants that remain in our area aren’t that great.

Our book club met at Schmidt Family Vineyard the next day with plans to sit outside. With temperatures in the triple digits, we didn’t last long. The photo was taken by another group of women sitting nearby. We wanted to honor our member who passed away unexpectedly. Joan had written a memoir and was in her late 80s when she passed. Those of us who had read the memoir were shocked to discover the complexities of her life and all she accomplished. How often do we know older acquaintances without a clue of what they have lived through?

Just a few days later our friends Wes and Gayle dropped in for an overnight visit as they traveled from Tucson to Portland. It was wonderful seeing them again. We sometimes visit when we are near Tucson, but it has been three years since they were here. Gayle misses the wineries in our area and hasn’t found anything in Arizona to compare. We took them to Hummingbird Estate for a bit of wine and snacks since they had never been to this particular winery. In spite of the smoky skies, they could see that the view would be lovely on a clear day.

Home again in time for dinner on the back deck with the four of us reminiscing about good times that we have shared over the years since they were our neighbors in Rocky Point. A favorite memory is a time Mo and I invited them for hot dogs and we cooked them over a fire on a pitchfork.

Wes and Gayle left on Thursday and on Friday morning I left Mo to take care of home and drove north to visit Daughter Melody for her birthday weekend. Her husband Robert was home Friday evening but had to leave early Saturday for a business trip.

Robert and Melody started knitting and crocheting together last spring. The den is overflowing with bins of yarn and ongoing projects. The next morning Melody and I relaxed with breakfast and coffee and the lovely prospect of an entire weekend of girl time.

We did the “flower walk”, a tradition in our family that goes back a few decades. I love seeing my daughters enjoying their gardening hobbies and carrying on the tradition.

Melody then took me downtown (Brownville is a tiny historic town) just a mile away to an amazing knit shop. It was a thrill to see a knit shop that was much like the few that I remember from my early days of knitting that have since closed. Of course I bought yarn, and with inspiration from Melody and Robert have started knitting again.

Melody and I had lunch at a local Mexican restaurant and then spent the afternoon visiting another knit shop in Lebanon, about half an hour northeast of Brownsville. More yarn, more beautiful samples and wonderful inspiration. No wonder the two of them have taken up the yarn arts. I so miss our little yarn shop in Grants Pass where I could take classes and participate in yarn groups.

The next day, Sunday, was time for a family gathering, with Melody’s two sons and their spouses visiting from nearby Albany. They all had a day off at the same time. We took Melody to a wonderful noodle house in Eugene for her birthday celebration. It was so much fun. The kids shared the cost of the meal with me and we ordered so many dishes that I lost track. It was great fun and the food was incredibly delicious.

It was so much fun spending time with Melody and the kids, shopping, relaxing, eating, and sharing her birthday. I didn’t make a cake this time, but I gave her a camera so she will have something to take to Paris this coming December for the big trip she and Robert have planned.

It was clear and gorgeous the entire time I was in Brownsville with blue skies and pleasant temperatures. The smoke also cleared in Grants Pass until the day I returned. By the time I drove down into our valley, the skies were thick with smoke from the many fires in the Cascades to the east and the north, and from the fires in California to the south.

Mo and I originally planned to take the MoHo to Medicine Lake for a few days but with the heat and the smoke, we decided to skip our August camping trip. Instead, we drove over the pass to the east toward Rocky Point for a day of kayaking on our favorite canoe trail at Recreation Creek

We left early in the morning in order to be on the water by 8:30 or so. We knew the skies would be smoky in the Klamath Basin but were happy that the area along the eastern front of the Cascade Mountains didn’t seem quite as bad as what we left behind in Grants Pass.

It was wonderful to get back on the water in an area that we know and love. We paddled for a few hours and traveled a bit more than 5 miles. As Melody said to me, “Mom, you two could paddle there with your eyes closed”, and she was almost right.

We didn’t see another human on the entire trip, but with the heat of the day building up we decided to turn around before we made it all the way to Crystal Spring.

We have paddled often with rafts of white pelicans, sometimes getting very close, but this time they were skittish and stayed far enough away from us that I didn’t get a very good photo.

We passed several beaver dams but didn’t see any beaver in the water. We did see one otter, but she was also very skittish and kept diving beneath the wocus leaves before I could capture her cute little face.

I thought it was a godwit, but looking more closely I think it may have been a willet. She also kept ducking away from the camera. I was glad I had the big camera instead of the phone so I could zoom in much better with the camera

This little duck teased us for almost a mile, letting us get close and then skittering away to the next bend in the river. Even with a zoomed-in lens I still am not good enough at duck identification to name it.

We continued upstream for some time longer, enjoying the complete and utter silence of the morning. Even though we live in a somewhat rural area in Grants Pass, there is nothing as quiet as Recreation Creek on a summer morning.

As we approached the point where we decided to turn around, I was suddenly surprised by the loud sound of sandhill cranes taking to the air. Of course, I had just put the camera away, thinking I didn’t need any more photos of reeds and water.

Then near the meadows that open up as the river widens we saw at least a dozen great egrets through the grass. I discovered that attempting to focus a camera lens on a bird from river level is very nearly impossible because the camera really wants to focus on the grass between me and the birds. Manual focus is not going to happen while I am trying to paddle, get the camera out, and take a picture.

In the same meadow, we saw at least two dozen white-faced Ibis, once again through grass that made a photograph nearly impossible

But a photo that captured the day most perfectly was taken the moment the egrets and the ibis took off from the meadow in a rush of wings.

This photo somehow evokes the feeling of the birds, the water, and the quiet on a mystical smoky day that a more perfect shot might not capture.

As we returned home that evening, the skies in Grants Pass had cleared. A fresh breeze associated with the incoming front had cleaned the valley air. Within three days the triple-digit temperatures gave way to highs in the 70’s and cool nights.

We had two full days of blessed, heavy, soaking rain that was such a relief from the heat and drought. The lawn and the flowers responded almost immediately. I cannot remember when we have had good rain in August since I have been in Southern Oregon.

Notice the white bird bath with the squirrel on it in the photo above. Mo has been bugging me for years to let her paint it a fresh white.  I don’t want it to be fresh white.  I want to keep the old English garden look full of old antique items. We had two full days of blessed, heavy, soaking rain that was such a relief from the heat and drought. The lawn and the flowers responded almost immediately. I cannot remember when we have had good rain in August since I have lived in Southern Oregon.  Who knows if it will ever happen again.

Mo and I spent the rest of the month enjoying cool mornings working in the yard and looking forward to fall.

Mo built a simple irrigation system that could use the salty wastewater that is the by-product of our reverse-osmosis system. She hated seeing it running down the ditch along the road. It now drip-irrigates the huge photinia shrubs that line the front of the property. Photinia thrives in hot climates, and they are somewhat salt tolerant.

Also, during the latter part of August, we pressure-washed the decks. When the weather warmed up again, Mo stained them. The decks need staining every three years or so in this climate.  Even though we live in a hot climate, winter fogs cause black mold to form on the wood. 

Somehow the month was truly beautiful. It has been a long time since I thought that August could be so delightful.

Sometimes the month of July can get a bit tiresome here in Southern Oregon, but nowhere near as tiresome as the Dog Days of August. I am creating this story in August, very nearly halfway through the month, and who knows, before I am finished writing today I might even talk about August a little bit. I never really know what I am going to write until I begin the actual process, so your guess is as good as mine as to what I will talk about today.

This summer has been surprising. We had the usual late June heat, which continued into the early part of July, but instead of day after day of unrelenting heat, we actually got a break now and then, and for most of the month we had no smoke. Despite fires burning to the south and to the east of our little home here in Grants Pass, the winds blew in a favorable direction and we were spared. At least until mid-month. But that part will come later in my story.

Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows how much I love to celebrate holidays. Christmas, Thanksgiving, St Paddy’s Day, and all the others seem to trigger a deep need for me to do something, anything, to mark the changes on the calendar. Maybe just a flag or a small bit of decor, or as my daughter says Christmas, which often looks like the holiday threw up all over the house.

The Fourth of July has always been a favorite and I have no idea why. Maybe because of the celebrations I loved as a kid, with the huge church picnic at the Arcadia County Park, complete with a public “plunge” as we called it back then. We started with campfire biscuits for the church breakfast before daylight and ended with magnificent fireworks shows surrounded by the hot wires of spent sparklers littering all the blankets strewn across the landscape of the park.

As my kids grew I tried to recreate that same wonder for them. My kids still roll their eyes at my three-legged sack races and silly games on the lawn I made them play when I would have holiday picnics at home. I always tried to make it to the fireworks, no matter where we lived, and in Northern Idaho during the years I lived there, the kids remember watching the fireworks in the pouring rain at Riverfront Park in Spokane, or on Tubbs Hill in Coeur D’Alene. It seemed to rain a lot on the Fourth back in those days of the early 80’s.

I still try to do the Fourth, and the only tradition that manages to continue no matter what is “mom’s potato salad”. In the past few years, we have celebrated at the house in Rocky Point until we left in 2015, and then with fireworks with the kids in the parking lot at Mo’s apartments where we lived during our transition to this current life in Grants Pass.

We spent one Fourth at Lake of the Woods, with fireworks, and another Fourth or two at Daughter Melody’s house in Brownsville with fireworks in the park sponsored by the local fire department. Another year Mo and I spent the day hiking here in the nearby Cathedral Hills and topped off the day with fireworks in the local Reinhart Park in Grants Pass.

Last year Mo and skipped the Fourth in favor of our cruise on Oceania to the British Isles. Didn’t miss the fireworks in the least.

We thought about going north to Melody’s once again this year, but the combination of unrelenting heat in late June into early July was daunting. We thought about going to the local park for a picnic and bocci ball with the family, but again the thought of being outdoors in that heat was daunting. Instead, I told the family that I would be skipping the usual celebration this year and would be staying home, indoors, with air conditioning.

Melody and Robert thought that was a great idea since they have friends near their home who throw a huge Fourth of July party yearly. Sometimes they skipped it to be with family but this year they were happy to attend. After a bit of conversation about the non-plans for the holiday, the two of them asked if they could come south for the weekend after the holiday. The only requirement was that I make potato salad.

I was absolutely up for a belated holiday and some real potato salad. We still thought that the four of us in addition to Deborah and Matthew might skip out to the beautiful Whitehorse Park along the Rogue River where we spent the day a few years ago.

Instead, the temperatures rose quickly to a high of 116 degrees and we were all extremely grateful for a cool, air-conditioned home where we could spend the day visiting, eating, knitting together, and watching movies. Once again, the day was as sweet as could be under the circumstances, and we had great fun bringing up memories of all the different years we have spent together on July Fourth.

When the Fourth was over, Mo and I spent mornings out in the yard before the heat became too much to bear and we retreated indoors to other pursuits. Puzzles are great entertainment when it is too hot to do anything else.

I spent one morning visiting the local Farmer’s Market but it was already pretty darn hot by 9:30 when I left. Tomatoes are not yet ready in this area and the blackberries have yet to appear for a reasonable price. I needed to get at least a big flat of berries because my homemade blackberry/slightly strawberry jam was gone. We used the last jar at breakfast early in the month.

I called Deborah and arranged for the two of us to go to the market together on another weekend, but the blackberries weren’t yet ready even then. But Deb and I had a good time shopping after our yummy breakfast at Lulu’s, with street tables and the best eggs Benedict in town.

Mo and I spent one morning driving out to the Applegate area to Pennington Farms so I could get the berries without having to try to track them down at the market. Nice that the flat of berries was ten dollars less than they were at the market and oh so sweet. I spent another hot day making jam to the delight of the cool air conditioning as the heat built outside.

On another day Mo picked a big bucket of apples and peeled and cored them so it was imperative that I make applesauce. The Gravenstein apples make the best applesauce ever and we treasure our little tree, old and bent as she may be.

Later in the month, Mo came in with another bucket of apples and peeled and cored them so I once again had to make something. We had plenty of sauce and so this time around I made a truly yummy apple pie/galette sort of thing. A galette is like a French pastry with the crust wrapped up around the apple filling and folded. However, it can often leak and create an oven mess. A pie is more work with two crusts and I decided to make the galette in a pie pan and it was close to perfect. And no, I didn’t manage to get a photo of that spectacular-looking pie.

Here I am talking about August, even though I didn’t intend to. I made the pie in early August to share with our friends Wes and Gayle who were visiting from Tucson. I will write about their visit in the next post about August. Since Gayle is such a great cook and always cooks something spectacular for us, I decided a simple apple pie wasn’t enough to serve them for dessert. I decided to try a caramel whiskey cream sauce for the pie which required caramelizing sugar until it bubbled fiercely. That was an experience but the sauce came out so good I will never again buy something in a jar. And yes, Janna, one of the few I can count on one hand who still reads my blog, might have to ask for that recipe if she hasn’t already tried it.

But back to more of July.

The month progressed with more heat and a bit of a windstorm that blew through. I think we got exactly 5 drops of rain, but the thunder and lightning were just enough to ignite dozens of wildfires throughout the Cascades in addition to the huge Park fire northeast of Chico in California already burning.

Right on time, on July 17th, the smoke rolled into Grants Pass and once again our skies were brown and the sun was red. The difference this year is that the smoke and poor air quality seem to dissipate every now and then and we can actually get a few blessedly gorgeous sunny days.

A few months ago Mo’s brother called and asked us if we wanted to join them for a camping trip to their favorite beach park at Nehalem Bay in late July. Even though we are hesitant to leave during irrigation season, we agreed that it would be good to spend as much time as possible with family.

We departed for our 5 days on the Oregon Coast on the morning of July 22nd. Most of the time when we travel to the coast we don’t go very far north. Nehalem Bay, however, is a 7-hour drive for us driving the MoHo so it makes for a bit of a long day.

Unlike our last family trip in June, this time we agreed that each family would make their own meals and we could eat at a shared table for dinners. I brought a pork loin which served us for two full meals done on the BBQ one night and in a stir fry on another night. The family agreed to a steak night with each of us bringing our own steaks and cooking them at Don and Wynn’s campsite.

Our campsites weren’t adjacent to each other since Dan made the reservations a bit late in the season. Sometimes it is terribly difficult to get reservations on the Oregon coast without doing them a year in advance, so we were lucky to get 4 sites for all the families.

This time, in addition to Dan and Chere, and Don and Wynn, Mo’s brothers and their wives from Beaver Creek and Spokane respectively, we were joined by Nancy (wife of Mo’s brother Roger who passed a few years ago) and her daughter’s husband’s mother and father and sister from the Tri-Cities area. Extended family this time around.

After settling in that first night, we had a round table discussion about our plans for the next morning which included paddling somewhere in the kayaks. Nehalem Bay is fed by several arms of the Nehalem River, but they are all affected by tides and we had to be sure that we kayaked with the tide and not against it.

The tide was lowest at 8:30 AM on Tuesday so made sure we were on the water as soon after that as possible. The launch was a good one for me, with a smooth surface that I could navigate easily, and Mo and I launched without incident. Dan and Chere launched their inflatable and Jennifer (Nancy’s daughter’s sister-in-law) and Nancy took Don’s two-person inflatable while Don kayaked in the beautiful wooden boat he built himself.

We spent about three hours on the water heading toward the ocean and returning to our launch site. We didn’t see a lot of wildlife, but watching the horses on the beach from the stables at the state park was fun.

At supper that evening we all decided that it would be wise to take a kayak break the next day and that each family could do their own thing before we met for supper. Mo and I chose to spend our time walking on the beach early in the day before the winds started up.

Of course, Mattie was in sandy beach heaven. Mo and I love camping at Harris Beach on the Southern Oregon Coast at Brookings where there are many rocks and sea stacks to navigate. Although there aren’t a lot of rocks at Nehalem Beach, there are dunes between the campground and the beach. Walking the beach is delightful, but climbing the dunes is hard for the best of us and I am certainly not the best! My legs were toast by the end of our day.

In the afternoon that day Mo and I did a bit of back-country driving to attempt to track down the boat launches that were located on the various drainages feeding into the bay. Despite the detailed maps Dan found online, most of the launches were mud holes at low tide or were down steep banks that we couldn’t possibly navigate. Dan and Don drove around to other sites as well and came to the same conclusion.

The family skipped kayaking on Thursday and once again did our own thing with Mattie as the brothers and their wives did their own thing as well. Mo and I chose to drive to the day-use area to access the beach, thinking that the dunes might be less daunting from that location. Instead, the trail was even steeper and softer and by the time we got back that morning I was completely wiped out and had to rest enough so that I could still walk well enough to join the family for a shared supper at a local eatery in Manzanita near the campground.

Looking back, I realized that I didn’t take a single photo of our day at the beach. I think I was tired of packing the camera and was definitely not into taking more family photos with the phone of people eating again. Made me laugh when I looked back at this attempting to add a photo or two to this part of the story!

Friday morning we were awakened by a bit of scary news. Don’s wife Wynn had a medical emergency, and she and Don ended up spending the night in the hospital at Seaside, 23 miles north, where the nearest emergency room was located. They arrived back in camp early in the morning, but Wynn definitely wanted to get on the road and get back to Spokane as soon as possible. Dan and Chere and Don and Wynn departed the campground by 8am and Mo and I expected to make a leisurely departure before 9.

Everything was going smoothly and on time until I attempted to retract the HWH semi-automatic levelers. Nada. Nothing worked. No matter how I tried the levelers would not respond. We were supposed to be out of the campground by noon but had no clue what to do. I started calling mobile RV repair services, but one was out of town, another was too fully booked to even consider coming to us at the park, and finally, one of the mobile services took pity on us and suggested we call HWH directly and provided us with a phone number that isn’t easily obtained.

The park ranger came around to see if they could help, but they weren’t allowed to do any of that kind of work on our rig. They did say that they would figure out a way to tell the people coming into our site that they would have to go to another available site.

There was no way that Mo could do what was needed because the bolts were much too tight to loosen. As luck would have it, Nancy’s in-laws hadn’t left yet and Rick (Nancy’s daughter’s father-in-law) said he would make an attempt to help. I finally got on the phone with HWH and Rick spent almost three hours with them attempting to get the levelers to retract. The final solution was for him to undo each of the four hoses that released a bit of the hydraulic fluid to release the pressure and allow the jacks to retract. With the jacks finally up we were able to leave the park before our required departure hour.

Mo and I were very happy when we pulled out of that campground just before noon.

We were mentally and physically exhausted by the time we actually got on the road and still had almost 8 hours of driving ahead of us. As we got closer to Grants Pass it was obvious that smoky skies were filling the valley. We pulled into the driveway just before dark, two very tired and worn-out travelers.

As always, we spent the next two days after we returned from the trip unpacking and cleaning up the MoHo before settling into our late summer routine of watering, trimming, mowing, and doing laundry. I baked some cookies and brownies to send to Rick as a simple thank you for all his help with the levelers. We would have been seriously stranded without his help, with all the mobile guys quoting days to weeks before they could get to us.

The last week of July was truly beautiful with temperatures moderating into the high 90’s each afternoon with cool nights and beautiful mornings. We had several days with no smoke that made me remember with delight what summer can bring.

We ordered a 2000-gallon load of water to be delivered to our cisterns which gave us a bit of reprieve from the summertime issue of our well and the flowers all said thank you. I spent time in a chair outside simply watching the sky and the leaves on the big trees while Mo raked the lower pasture cleaning up the debris from the windstorm.

I took photos of birds and leaves and trees and even got a good shot of the almost full moon.

Summer is a gift that I often tend to dismiss. I realize that I may only have a dozen or fewer summers in my lifetime so I had better enjoy each and every one.