George Bailey

  Preparing for Christmas took my mind off the ice storm and its effects to my property.  While I was able to haul most of the fallen branches to the back of my pasture where I wouldn't be able to see them on a daily basis, others were struggling with having to hire professionals to cut, trim and haul off  branches torn down from the storm.  With every trip to town it seemed I would see more and more houses with neatly stacked piles of evenly cut branches positioned at the edge of property lines awaiting pick ups.  On our way out of town in mid March, I saw a few tree service trucks pulling utility trailers full of wood.  Hard to believe all those weeks after the icy weather that Paris residents were still cleaning up the mess. 
  Shortly before Christmas I discovered our local theater had scheduled one showing on Christmas Eve of my very favorite movie, It's A Wonderful Life.  I have been a Jimmy Stewart fan since I first discovered his films in the late '80's.  I worked at a video store where I rented Mr. Smith Goes To Washington and I was an instant fan.  Between Rear Window, Mr. Hobbs Takes A Vacation and his role in The Shootist, it's pretty near impossible for me to choose which role I could say is my second favorite after that of George Bailey.  Maybe it's the comforting believability of his acting, or the fact that he puts me in mind of the grandfather who raised me, or maybe both, but there was always something about Jimmy Stewart's acting that made me feel happy. And, sort of like I knew him.  It's A Wonderful Life is a movie that I, like  many others watch every Christmas season.  I've probably seen it over a dozen times.  And, like many others, I have cried each and every time at the end.  Just thinking about what Clarence wrote in the book makes me well up just a little.  Because it's true. It's a Biblical principle.  It is a truth that has been lost by some people.  But, I can say, with all honesty, it is a truth I am reminded of daily when I log on to my Facebook page and am able to connect and communicate with friends and family.  Corny?  Yes. True?? Very.
   Watching this movie on the big screen with my girls was an event that is etched in my mind forever.  My oldest, like myself has a fondness and deep appreciation for the past, particularly the Victorian age up to about the 1940's.  We have talked about what we think living in that span of time was like. I have relayed many stories from my grandparents and other relatives who have given me first-hand  and  second-hand accounts of daily life way back in the proverbial day.  We wonder what everything looked like in color because pictures and movies are all black and white. :)
  Georgia instantly fell in love with the movie and asked if I could fix her hair with the big braid like Donna Reed wore. Tootie's attention was held throughout; she really loved when the dance floor opened up and the dancers fell in the pool.  Georgia appreciated the humor, the clothes and décor and we still say, "I wish I had a million dollars! Hot dog!" every once in a while.  We felt sorry when the druggist slapped George and made his ear bleed and we smiled big when he helped Mr. Martini get his first house.  We were angered when Mr. Potter told George he was worth more dead than alive and when Nick didn't recognize him.  We cheered along when  George shouted, "Merry Christmas, you old savings and loan!"  And everyone watching sniffed and wiped their eyes at the end when George read the message.  The message I think we should remind ourselves of from time to time.  I don't need to write it.  We all know what this movie speaks of.  I have tried to convey it to my kids since they could understand the concept; everyone matters; everyone counts; everyone can make a difference. 
And, life is truly wonderful, even when it's hard. 

Ice Storm of 2013

  Arriving home after about 8 months of traveling is an event we start counting down to around the beginning of September.  Of course, once you start counting the weeks and then the days, each hour passes at a ridiculous agonizing pace. By the second week of October I can see the "finish line" at my front gate in my head. 
  Every year, I park the trailer in roughly the same spot in the pasture.  It gets enough shade from the giant tree Georgia likes to climb from time to time, yet is far enough away that the branches won't brush against the skin if heavy winds pick up.  This winter, it wasn't just heavy winds, or even heavy rains that threatened us.  It was an ice storm that came in the middle of December that sent everyone in a survival mode of sorts.
  There was the memorable ice storm of 2000 that the Paris locals still talk about from time to time.  That was before we settled our winters in Texas.  Every winter from 2003 on has presented the occasional snow fall, light ice, some rains, winds and I can expect certain parts of my drive way to be too muddy to park on.  (Fourteen loads of gravel later, I can now park my truck anywhere and everywhere in the driveway without fear getting buried to the axles.)
  The 2013 ice storm was apparently on par with the storm that invaded Paris and surrounding communities years before. In any case many residents, myself included were left with no choice but to find a warm place elsewhere.  Thanks to the unfailing generosity of friends in Hugo, we were made more than comfortable at the Brown home.  We ate good, laughed hard and stayed up a little too late once or twice.  I tended to my errands, chores and dogs and drove Georgia to school the days classes were in session.  The time I spent at home during the day clearing what fallen branches that were manageable gave me a little work out.  Some branches were coated so thick with ice, they sat in my yard and driveway for days till the ice was gone.  With little to no signs of ice, I could drag them to the thickly wooded acreage at the back of the pasture.  I often heard what sounded like gun shots echoing all over the countryside.  While it's not the least bit unusual to hear target practice where I live amidst hunters, these cracks and pops weren't bullets or pellets, but the sound of branches being weighed down so heavily by the layers of ice that had accumulated so quickly.  Some fell hard and fast and threatened the occasional passing car. Other branches fell in an almost creepy slow motion eventually succumbing to the weight of that white ice.  But, still we were very thankful despite the overcast skies and the ice coated everything.  Not everyone had a warm welcoming place with friends who are more like family like we did.  The five days in Hugo were fun and reminded me that the value of friendship is something you can't put a price on.
  Our church's living nativity was cancelled because of the ice storm.  Atwoods, TCS and Wal-Mart  ran out of those little green propane tanks.  McQueen's propane was hopping while other stores were rushed upon by folks stocking up on water, gasoline (for generators) and propane.  Some parts of Paris were a bit frenzied while other neighborhoods were left with empty houses, unlit street lamps and felt a little hollow.
  The ice storm lasted about a week, and there were more cold days than not all winter long which made the off time creep by slowly.  The icy wet weather isn't kind to my back or joints.  While we are currently getting pelted with the sporadic rain storm here in the Midwest, I'm not sore and the time is moving right along. 
    
 

Continuing Right Along

Where I left off...
  The end of the 2013 season came before I was ready.  The western tour, as I have mentioned on more than one entry, is a tough one with lots of miles and mountains. However, those rough parts are quickly forgotten when we are lost in the beauty of the sky scraping redwoods or listening to the ocean pound the giant rocks in West Port.
  I left you in Washington state, where we visited the beaches, boardwalks, tourist shops and got to spend time with relatives we don't see often enough.  Our virtual Facebook visits do help our Washington family, and all other out-of-state friends and family stay close despite the miles apart.  But nothing can beat time spent together in person whether it's just hanging out in the tent or catching up over lunch. Those moments are treasured and stored up in our memories and hearts. 
  Washington's site gave way to the rocky windy roads of Idaho.  One of the toughest states to tour, yet one of the most beautiful.  With rushing rivers that parallel most of the roads we traveled, some of our morning chats were interrupted by the gushing sounds of the waters rolling over the rocky river beds at top speeds.  Our quick Idaho run makes a much anticipated stop at the Three Rivers Resort in Lowell.  We all took a breather in the shade amongst those rushing waters and the never ending landscape of mountains.  Most of us spend the day off poolside or immersed in a hot tub and try hard not to look at the clock. A few of us, me not included, brave the white water rafting, but we all wind up in the restaurant/souvenir shop/general store more than once for supplies, snacks, coffee and fridge magnets.  
   They don't call Montana big sky country for no reason.  Our time there was all too brief yet thoroughly etched in my memory. The enormity of the mountain ranges and that infinite span of sky is something that has to be experienced first hand to truly appreciate.  No picture or video sequence can do justice to a live and in person view of Montana's natural beauty.  I think you could close your eyes, aim your camera somewhat skyward and have a masterpiece in your view finder every time.  I marveled out loud at every single mountain peak the broke through the clouds in Montana.  Needless to say, I did a lot of marveling.  The capper to our big sky days...more memories made with loving family.  And, huckleberry coffee. ;)
 The three day stand in the nation's highest peaked town was also a vacation of sorts.  The plumbing is slow because Leadville sits 10,000 feet on top of a mountain and it takes a day or so for the pain in your chest to go away. Visits to the historical opera house, the Delaware hotel, the antique stores, the paint-it-yourself pottery shop, the hipster second-hand store (where I bought my Laura Petrie apron), the ultra cool local coffee shop and my personal favorite, Leadville's own Golden Burro Café, kept us in tourist mode for our entire 72 hour stay.  These sites were made extra magnificent with the spikes of mountain tops and ever-changing clouds as the town's backdrop.
  Our Colorado time was also made extra special with family visits over dinner.  It was fun to see Georgia and Genevieve hit it off with their second cousins right away.  While I am thankful for modern technology making miles shorter, I also wish our visits came around more than once every few years. 
  We wound up the 2013 season in my home state, but not before we hit those old familiar Kansas and Oklahoma roads. Elkhart, Texas'  ball field was transformed into our highly anticipated Halloween party site that last Saturday night.  All the show kids and I prepared for the pumpkin carving contest using our imaginations,  mad skills and pumpkin carving sets.  It didn't take too much effort for us to transform an old dug out and backstop into a cobweb-laden grave yard and all around general spooky jack-o-lantern gallery.  Games, eats, drinks, music, costumes, contests and generous prizes were the focus, not the chill in the air.
  We traveled to Paris the next morning but didn't make it home before we made a spur of the moment, yet not so out of the way stop.  Our church is on the way to my house so the kids and I thought it'd be fun to wait for our church family in the parking lot and greet them after service. Turns out, my family had the same idea.  We took the TaMolly's exit and pulled into the church parking lot and waited for service to let out.  Our pastor was the only one who was able to view our rigs pulling in, so he ducked out the church's front entry and eagerly invited us to sit.  We sat in on the remainder of his message and were warmly welcomed home by our close-knit church family.
  The remaining 6 mile trip to the blue house, as the kids call it took what seemed like seconds.  Each time I park the trailer in the pasture ending the season and beginning the off time, I exhale and say out loud to myself...."It's good to be landed," like my dad used to say.  

Time Away...

  I have missed writing.  Shortly after my last entry back in May, our family computer started to really act up. After a few attempts to straighten it out, I put fixing it on the back burner until I could send it away to a friend who would be able to fix it once and for all. It only took a few days to be revamped and it is now literally good as new. So, I get to spend some quiet time catching up.
  Last spring, our tour took us through one of my favorite states, Oregon. We really began to take advantage of opportunities, no matter how brief, to explore the history behind some the towns we covered during our tour. 
  We started our Beaver state run in Cave Junction where my kids and I enjoyed a visit from their great-Uncle Curtis.  Curtis spent some years back in the '90's on Culpepper and before that, Franzen Bros.; I seemed to follow him by only a few years on each show.  I enjoyed catching up with Curtis and so did my kids.  He taught them how to play the marble game, 9 pots and gave each of us and my nephew, Noah our own set of marbles. :)  Curtis had also trained a male Spitz for me.  I was eager to be reunited with him and see where his talents lie. Chili's hind leg walk made a nice addition to my act and his natural ability to jump over and though different props was honed by Curtis and is a skill I can incorporate in a variety of ways.  Our visit was short but very sweet and we hope it's not another two years before our path crosses with Uncle Curtis'.

Our Uncle Curtis Cainan.  Amazing performer and awesome uncle.

  With quaint and historical towns like Drain, Riddle, Oakridge and Amity locked happily in my memory, Oregon is one of those states in which I could find myself retiring. Its unmatched natural flower growth and greenery alone are enough to make me think that it would all too easy to adapt to the unique beauty and serenity of northwest small town life.  I have no problem keeping an umbrella close at hand. ;)   

Heading into Washington state.

  After soaking in what I could of the lush emerald splendor and deep roots of Oregon history, we happily crossed into Washington where more family, beach-side towns and some of our favorite shops awaited us.  The drive across the bridge into the Evergreen state is a brief moment that I really look forward to.  Long Beach qualifies as a 'highlight' town. Appropriately named, the former Tinkerville, has a year round mild climate.  Its ecosystem is unique because the Columbia River flows into the Pacific creating its own weather system.  The 1,200 population town boasts a well-kept, lengthy and winding boardwalk, which leads to its incredibly beautiful and enormous beach.  Along what was once called Rubberneck Road, you won't see the Crystal Bath House, Milton York Candies, soda fountains or livery stables which bustled early in the turn of the 20th century;  you will find every tourist's ultimate gift shop, seafood restaurants dotting the lane and my personal favorite Long Beach coffee house and bakery, the Cottage Bakery.  With the freshest pastries and a selection so vast, it doesn't take long to see why this place is often crowded with customers who take their time to make a careful selection.  I'm certain you wouldn't be disappointed if you made a selection from the vintage baker's case while blindfolded.  

Well worth the wait in line to savor this bakery's treats.  It was easy to follow the enticing aroma of baked goods...we went there twice. :)

  Tootie and I eagerly pounced atop the boardwalk's slats behind unicycling cousins, Noah and Georgia.  Their short legs negotiated the peddles easily as the steady boardwalk gave way to a grumbly rumbly paved walkway and then finally to the hardened sandy beach.  I was impressed with their unicycling talents and their stamina.  After all that peddling, they had plenty of energy to delve knee high into the icy pacific shore.  The frigid temperature of the salt water is enough to drain a healthy adult of their energy.  But, Noah, Georgia and Toot were all too pumped with excitement to take much notice of the temperature .  I kept close watch on their whereabouts and was extra careful to rein them in when they didn't take notice of the tide affecting their bearings and distance from me.  They waded and splashed for quite some time and didn't seem to mind their salt watered pants as they all made a mini sand village and hunted for crab claws and shells. I don't recall exactly how long we spent at the beach, only that I'd wished it were longer.  Memories made; mission accomplished.  
  We had decent crowds in Long Beach, and if memory serves me, most of our time in Washington state saw rather full seat wagons.  Our route takes us through the Pacific northwest about every two years.  Although the mileage between towns can be lengthy and the roads windy and mountainous, I feel it's worth every inch of every mile traveled.  

Love this shot of our set up.  I often wish my dear friend, Valerie Berta could come along on our tour.  She'd never put her camera away.  

  More to come about my 2013 season's travels.  Thank you for checking in. Enjoy the pictures below.     

To the beach.

This makes me smile.

The former Rubberneck Road.

And finally... can you beat that expression on my littlest bear's face???

Drain, Oregon Pictures Installment 2

The Eisenhower Green Ash tree in Drain near the covered bridge.

Looking through a knot hole.

Catching up with Georgia.

Peddling across the covered bridge.

Resting up for another round of tag.

Paulina on the giraffe unicycle.

Local artist with Toot on the midway.

Drain, Oregon Pictures Installment 1

Charles Sr. and Nancy Drain (date unknown) Mr. Drain was a politician in the Oregon Territory. 

The Charles Jr. & Anna Drain house was added to the National Registry of Historic Places in 1978.

On the front balcony at the Drain Castle.

The Hasard House aka Sweet Thang Chocolates.

A tight lot in Drain, OR

Looking Around

  The western route is one that Georgia and I have looked forward to for quite a while.  Although we meet some mountainous terrain, most of the morning drives offer landscapes that are far too stunning for the kids to sleep through.  Many mornings I've roused the girls so they could take in the matchless colorful sunrises in the vast desert expanses of New Mexico and Arizona.  We have marveled at the dense Joshua tree parks and the splendor of the Avenue of the Giants in the Garberville area.  To us, it's exciting to see and hear the rushing waters that trail along the roads leading up to northern California.  There's nothing like the sites of the western C & M tour.

  We have been traveling from village to village in Oregon for about a week now. This part of the country is pretty well known for being wet and green.  The rain and the sun can, at times take turns making appearances in just a few hours. I learned quickly to keep rubber boots and sunglasses in close reach while we explore the beaver state.  Mount Hood, the Timberline Lodge, Crater Lake National Park, and numerous museums are some of the more popular points of interest.  We haven't taken in the waterfalls or volcanoes of Oregon, but our visits to sparsely populated villages like Riddle, Drain and Harrisburg that are almost secretly tucked along highways have offered surprising and memorable treasures.  We have soaked in a few local history lessons while visiting the museums, perusing the local commerce and investigating the Queen Anne style castles of these towns.

  The other morning on the way to Drain, Georgia said she wondered why in the world anyone would name a town Drain.  I said maybe we'd find out if we got to explore the town of just over 1,110 people.  When we approached the very outskirts of town, I recognized the gas station, coffee shop and auto part store from two years ago.  As we turned right on the main drag, I immediately noticed an eye-catching multi-colored Queen Anne style house that had been converted into the fanciest of candy stores sometime after our last visit.  The inviting outdoor wrought iron furniture, children's picnic tables and ultra colorful sweet-smelling landscaping all perfectly accented Sweet Thang's Victorian decor.  Having at one time been a collector or any and all things Victorian in my 20's, I was actually more excited to step foot in an actual factual Victorian house than sampling the candies.  After set up, we eagerly paid Sweet Thang a visit where the proprietor generously greeted me with a fresh homemade mocha as we entered what I guessed was once the parlor of the home built by Oregon and California Railroad carpenter, Charles Hasard in the late 1800's.   Fancy tables and shelves and crystal clear glass cases housed what I now consider to be the best chocolate I have ever tasted.  There were chocolates molded into playful duck shapes, finely crafted sea shells and star fish, detailed cameos and chocolate spoons for melting into hot milk to name just a few of the choices.  Homemade bath soaps, hand creams, post cards, period fans and hair accessories were also available to purchase in this tiny shop in which I could have easily spent hours wandering.  The multi-level future bed & breakfast/restaurant boasted many other rooms in which I imagined were probably also decorated with fine crafted, ornate, maybe ultra lacy, ultra flowery Victorian decor.  The rest of the home was left to my imagination as our half hour long visit came to a close.  Finding Sweet Thang on Facebook, I liked and commented on the goodies we came away with and hoped that they were no stranger to shipping their products.

  The lot was green, small and tucked right behind the town's pristine library/civic building.  Behind the back yard of the lot was, to my extreme pleasure, a lovely restored covered bridge available only by foot traffic.  Having been once described as a person who lives in the past (this I cannot deny...growing up with grandparents who told stories that put you right in the summer of 1925 or the bustling down town of Dayton during the war...yeah, I have done my fair share of wondering, romanticizing and day dreaming about the past) ready access to an old-fashioned covered bridge and an authentic Victorian house in one day put me on the proverbial cloud 9.  The lush green bushes that surrounded this masterpiece showed off huge pink and red blooms that smelled sweet and heavenly.  To the bottom right of the bridge was a greener than green clearing with perfect soft grass my girls ran around on and picked a dandelion puff or two.  At one point, Tootie became distracted long enough to pick a tiny flower near a growing Eisenhower Green Ash Tree, planted, of course to honor veterans. I learned that each of these trees is a direct descendant of the green ash growing in Dennison, Texas, at the birthplace of President Eisenhower.  We walked, ran, exercised dogs on and Georgia unicycled across that solid bridge too many times to count.  I wondered when it was originally built, who built it and where it led when it was first built. I wondered a lot of things about that bridge, and I really loved the sound of its echo.

  A covered concrete picnic area near the restored bridge became the grounds for unicycle practice and unicycle nonsense that sent me and my family 'pert near' into hysterics!  There's nothing like witnessing a rousing game of unicycle tag with every rider weaving in and out and around posts, picnic tables and assorted circus props, tools and a town person here and there.  I managed to record the sounds of shrieks and laughter as whoever was the unicycle riding "it" chased everyone else who wasn't the unicycle riding 'it'.  As one friend put it, 'only in a circus family!'  :)) So true!!  Paulina practiced riding the almost 10' tall "giraffe" unicycle with her dad and older sister, Simone guiding her along.  She held on to rafters and a long piece of  PVC as she carefully peddled a few feet here & there and seemed completely at ease.  So much at ease that she took a phone call from a local farrier while she was perched on top of the giraffe.

  After unicycle antics, we discovered, to our dismay, that the library was closed. But the Drain castle was not.  It had been and is still being restored to perfection.  I discovered that it is currently being used by the school board and is the office of the superintendent.  We had heard that if we visited this part inviting, part ominous looking house, that we may get a tour.  And a tour we got.

  Charles Drain, Sr., born in the Midwest,  purchased a 320 acre long narrow piece of Oregon bottom land in 1861.  About one decade later he sold 60 acres to the Oregon and California Railroad for $1.00 in an effort to circumvent certain county deed restrictions.  The receipt of this purchase at one time hung over the threshold of the post office doorway. Mr. Drain would allow the railroad a right of way through what became a popular and easy stage route, as long as they would stop in Drain "whether they needed to or not."  In no time, the railroad brought prosperity to the town and within the following decade saw the construction of many homes, businesses and public buildings. Charles Jr., one of three Drain children, and his wife Anna built was is now referred to the Drain Castle, in 1895, one year after Charles Sr.'s passing.  This Queen Anne style mansion must hold thousands of untold memories, stories, secrets and legends.  I only wished I'd had the time to do my own research on the dwelling while we were in Drain, but in true circus fashion I was racing with the clock and had to soak in as much as I could about the dwelling in about, oh, a half hour.  My own research would  have to wait...

  There were too many rooms to count. The baseboards were about a foot tall and 1 1/2 " deep.  Each door and window had been framed in with expertly and ornately carved wood  that was in mint condition.  Some of the doors had a precisely placed window above them that opened slightly with a long metal rod running down the side of the door frame, to allow air to circulate.  The ceilings were high, the staircase was narrow and the bannister still solid and strong.  All of the burl wood doors were heavy and the knobs and metal work were fancy and original.  The second level maid's quarters was small and a little sad looking with its slanted ceiling and small windows.  There was easy access to the outhouse and to a narrow, dark and creepy servants' staircase that led to the kitchen.  Some of the rooms had smaller rooms attached that I guessed were walk-in closets.  It turns out, at that time, clothing was stored primarily in armoires.  There were no closets like we use today.  Some of these smaller 'walk-in closet' looking rooms were used as nurseries, studies or storage.  Today, the majority of the rooms house the town holiday decorations, while other  rooms hold cases and cases of records and documents. Some rooms had been converted in office space and the kitchen, with appliances that appeared to date back to the 1950's was still clearly in use.  There were a few pieces of authentic Victorian furnishings, traveling trunks, quilts and faded framed pictures of the Drain family members strategically placed to help keep up that turn-of-the-last century feel.  I would have enjoyed a more lengthy tour of Drain's castle, but again, that pesky race with the clock cut our visit to just over 30 minutes.  Still, no complaints here.

  We returned to the lot to find a local artist sketching some circus scenes.  I was impressed that she was comfortable laying her art supplies on the folded up moon bounce as she went to work, chalk in hand.  She politely showed Toot and me her colorful sketches and obliged Toot's request for a piece of chalk and paper.  We chatted for only a few moments before the sprinkles forced us back to the trailer and the artist back to her car.  

  The act went exceptionally well for me in Drain.  I somehow felt even more excited than usual to perform that night. I guess a part of me wanted to give back a little extra to a town that showed my girls and me so much its history, heritage and hospitality.  

Pictures to come in next entry.