This is no "Golden Hour"

A local flower & gift shop sends out weekly emails, and this poem was included in yesterday's (to be sung to the following tune, which I'm including because I need a cheerful dose of 'alternate reality' right now):



There's a bright golden haze in McMinnville
There's a bright golden haze in McMinnville
The smoke fills the skies
We get ash in our eyes
And it looks like the start of our planet's demise....

Our surreal experience started Monday as we drove east to take Brian to college. A strong windstorm was forecast for that afternoon, but it came in earlier than predicted. Visibility diminished steadily; by noon (the third photo below), it looked like dusk and drivers were using their headlights.

It was very windy in Walla Walla, WA, too. We got Brian unloaded and moved in, walked across campus to get a complimentary ice cream cone, and then left for home when our three hours of scheduled time were up. (Walla Walla University has strict pandemic protocols in place.)

Men's dorm, above and below

Brian's room at move-in, above; getting arranged and filled, below

Several times within a few miles of the school, wind-whipped dust obliterated visibility and sand-blasted the truck. Fortunately conditions improved slightly before we reached the main highway. But before we could retrace our route to I-84 westbound, a fresh wildfire closed the road we had traveled just hours earlier. We had to take a detour.

Our newest neighbor texted, asking if they could do anything for the animals. She said, “It is crazy windy here with very low visibility.” An hour and a half later, she texted, “The power just went out.” Sure enough, we came home to leaves and branches everywhere, low visibility, the strong smell of smoke, and no power. We did chores by headlamp and iPhone light, then fell into bed.

Power was restored sometime in the wee morning hours, and the next day dawned much clearer. But I noticed that it looked ominously dark through the trees to our south. I suspected it was smoke, since there were no clouds in the forecast.

Sure enough, while I did morning chores the smoke moved in like an evil force in an old horror movie:

It was both fascinating and rather horrifying to watch. I figured it was smoke blowing north from California, not having watched or listened to any news since arriving home, but when I posted the above photos to Instagram, my neighbor informed me that it was smoke from a new fire just east of Salem (SE of us). By the time I left for work, this is what it looked like from our lane:

By the time I got home from work, it looked like this – true color, no filter!

Since then, what was a thick blanket of smoke above us has settled down around us. Monday's fires have grown, and others have started. The atmosphere is oppressive, made worse by the knowledge that the smoke is a result of incredible destruction of flora, fauna, and infrastructure. Yesterday I had an appointment in Salem*; this is what downtown looked like mid-afternoon:

And this is what it looked like in McMinnville and from my deck this afternoon:

Ash is drifting around, and has even gotten into our locking mailbox:

Our animals all seem to be doing okay, even my asthmatic horse (helped, no doubt, by being on twice-daily steroids). The three boy sheep are hanging out in the woods more than in the Ram-ada Inn lot and aren't eating much hay. I think they are filling up on all those crispy chips (i.e. desiccated maple leaves that blew down)!

(Photos taken Tuesday morning while the air at ground level wasn't so murky.)

But Rick has clients in the path of the fires all around us, and has had to treat at least two of his patients (not for burns) after they were evacuated. He has had to drive by or detour around wildfires to get to those calls, and others.

*As is fitting for 2020, a tooth that has been bugging me off and on throughout the pandemic is now recognizably abscessed. I get to have (another) root canal next week; hooray! 😟😖😩

Oh, and as is also fitting for 2020, last Sunday morning I went out and found a main branch of our Brooks prune tree on the ground:

I picked a whole bunch and invited the neighbor over to pick, too, knowing I wouldn't be able to give them any attention until we returned from our trip. The second dehydratorful is drying now, but the prunes are starting to spoil while they wait. If I didn't already have a bunch canned I would process some that way. I guess, considering I can't keep up with them all, that we can live without that branch.

We are so fortunate compared to thousands up and down the west coast, but we also realize we are one spark away from being in the same boat. Our horse trailer is hitched and ready to load, and I have a short list of essentials to grab should we have to evacuate. Showers may arrive early next week; please, Lord, send a soaker – and sooner!

That's it for now from . . .

(What was) Fresh on Friday

In planning my menu for Sabbath dinner, I decided to make a pasta salad, knowing there would be vegetables to harvest in the garden. My shopping cart, which doesn't include all available peppers (sweet and jalapeño) or cherry tomatoes:

The resulting pasta salad, which includes the first half-pint of fermented eggplant:

I'm ready to start two more pint jars!

I also made this for dessert, thanks to a friend giving me a bag of must-use-NOW fresh blueberries:

I finished plying my blue singles during outdoor church yesterday, and skeined it today. I think it's destined to be a scarf/small shawl that will go nicely with jeans this fall.

Connected with an old high school/college friend today via video chat. She's a fellow "old mom with a single teenaged offspring" facing challenges, albeit different ones than we are. Good to share, commiserate, and encourage one another!

The next time I post, we'll be (short-term) empty-nesters. New adventures for all – except for Poppy. She's going to miss her sometimes-playmate.

That's it for now from . . .

September morn

True confession: I've long been a Neil Diamond fan, and this song tugs on my heartstrings as I think about my little boy growing up and moving on to college in a few short days. Still, I am looking forward to getting more sleep. Poppy won't ‘whine me awake’ because Brian's alarm is going off, even as he sleeps through it because he was out until all hours (last ‘night’ it was 3:45, ostensibly because he got so tired coming home from work that he pulled off the road and slept in the truck a few hours). Rick can just go to sleep, but moms lay awake and wonder....

Once Poppy is awake I usually just get up and take her out to potty and do chores. Hunting is her passion so we check out the henhouse and tack room in the process; one morning she investigated the gopher holes in the side yard, too.

Once chores are done and the sun is up, Poppy likes to sunbathe on the deck. Chuckie often joins her there; this morning I caught their easygoing interaction in video format.


The weather continues to be hot and dry, although the forecast for the next week or so has been adjusted downward from record-breaking heat to ‘just’ hot. Plants and bushes around the yard look stressed; I'm focused on keeping the pots and garden and animals watered. I've given up on the sugar peas; I need to pull up the plants and feed them to the sheep. But the other fresh veggies provide lots of ingredients for our meals, including this recipe from The Splendid Table which got two thumbs up (Brian was out late and didn't eat with us). Yay for another excellent way to use zucchini, and it utilized one of my jalapeño peppers, too!

My hill of Red Kuri winter squash is taking over the garden with very little to show for it. I didn't think it had set any fruit at all, but the other morning I found two peach-sized squash. I'm not sure what mature Red Kuri look like; Mama Pea?

Inside, my littlest orchid is arrayed with breathtaking purple flowers,

and pretty blue yarn is being plyed when I have time.

I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open and still need to finish the church newsletter, so I'll sign off for now.

Just call me Sleepy South of Seattle . . .