On my way to a friend's cabin Wednesday evening, I rounded a curve and there was an odd-looking creature standing in the road. It was the strangest looking cow I had ever seen. No, it was a deformed elk. Nope... a moose?
Last week I would have told you I had nothing to do this coming weekend. This morning, I want to cry because of so many choices. First of all, I thought about going camping- just me, Petey and Mosie (yes, she goes camping, too.)
Then a friend invited me to her cabin, other friends are having a woodcutting campout, another is having a BBQ, someone has a birthday I want to go celebrate, Bob Webb and Heidi Mueller, along with other musicians, are playing at the Watershed Festival at the Fairgrounds- I want to do it all.
This reminds me of my grandson, Colston, when he was a toddler. He and I were at WalMart. When we got in line to check out, his eyes fell upon the candy display, right at his eye level. He looked at me, looked at the candy, looked at me.
"It's okay. Go ahead and pick out what you want," I said.
He looked at each one, touched a few, and I saw a frown furrow his brow. He started crying.
"What's the matter?" I asked, hugging him. "You can have whatever you want."
"I can't decide!" he wailed.
I tried to keep a serious face. "You can't go wrong. It's all good," I encouraged. "Any choice will be a good one."
He was satisfied with the final selection, enjoying it as we walked out the door.
That was funny back then. But now it's not, because I have so many fun things to do here. I can't chose wrong, yet what if I miss out on something?
I feel so overwhelmed, a part of me wants to crawl under the covers and say, "Just forget it!"
I'm not really going to do that. I'm going to choose one thing, and see if I can fit one or two other things around it- my main focus being that one thing.
I'll be without electricity off and on, unable to post, so if I don't check in with you before then, I'll see you Monday. Everyone, enjoy your weekend...
And if someone complains, "There's nothing to do here in Wallowa County," I can only say, "You're just not paying attention!"
Mosie the Cat is absolutely beautiful and puts me to sleep at night with her purring. She is also the most opinionated, stubborn, headstrong, willful, bossy, controlling, demanding, troublesome and challenging animal I have ever personally been acquainted with.
When I recognized these same traits in myself, I saw something had to give. You can't have a peaceful home with two characters so alike.
It took me nine years, but once I acquiesced to her way of thinking, we have become close friends. She runs things around here, and I love her dearly.
I thought I'd give you faces of those most mentioned in my stories, or at least my family, for now...
I'll start with the newest arrival-
Sgt. Pete Podengo Voortman Stickroth,
"Petey" for short. He is relentlessly demanding, like a drill sergeant. His breed (though he is mixed) is Portugese Podengo Terrier ( or terror, as I sometimes think.) He was given to me by Allen Voortman, owner of Pride and Joy Dairy (yummy milk!), and of course, the family name of my household.
It is noteworthy that he is looking so handsome in this photo. The leash is the key, for it means Petey is still, at least for this moment. Not only is he still, he is clean. And finally, he is paying attention. These are unnatural conditions for Petey. I am glad that I was able to capture this historical circumstance in a photo and that I can share it with you.
I'm considering a blog, strictly for Petey, for every day is an adventure with him. Plus, it might explain the harried look on my face that you see when encountering me around town.
His big sister, Mosie, will be introduced in the next post..
Class is still in session as I learn my way around Wallowa County, Oregon. In my column the La Grande Observer newspaper published for ten months, I told the story of how I landed here and shared the different things I’ve learned about living in this place that could very well be another planet. It’s unlike anywhere I could have imagined, and I love it.
I’ve called this place home for 2 ½ years now and still have so much to learn. If you followed my column, just consider that we switched rigs, because we still have many places to go, people to meet, and lessons to learn. If you’re a new arrival, jump in my truck with the rest of us, for we’re going for a ride…
And when I say a new outfit, I'm not talking about a fashionable ensemble of clothing. Around here, an outfit is referring to a vehicle. For us, we're switching from the vehicle of the printed page to blogging. That's all.
Same place. Same people. Same Wallowa Gal.
A 50-something woman comes home to a place she's never been before.