Education 101

Robert Fulghum wrote a book some time ago called All I Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. There is probably a great deal of truth in that, but I have come to the conclusion that ninety percent of my “real life" education, I got while standing in line.

Did you ever notice that when you are standing in line you are pretty much invisible? People talk around you or over you with not care in the world that you might overhear the intimate details of their lives. Now I know there are those of you who would join right in the conversation. But I am not one of you. I just listen . . . and continue to expand my education.

JoAnn’s Craft Store or Walmart are my favorite places to stand in line. NOT! But it does provide a venue for me to extend my education while there. Sometimes there are 20 people in front of me, all of whom have an opinion about something. I really have attempted to join the conversation (on very rare occasions) but am often looked at like I have three eyes and floppy ears. So I just listen. I peruse the candy and analyze the gizmos on the shelf as I wait. Do you know how many kinds of chocolate they have there? Umpteen. And how many $19.95 gizmos that don’t work, or zillions of flavors of body lotions and candles. Granted you don’t learn a lot from labels, but every little bit helps.

Have you ever watched people shop while in line? They read the magazines, handle all the goodies in the aisle, even smell things. Oh ya, I am guilty. What else do you do there? Shuffle your feet, push the person in front of you a littler closer to the check stand, or you can check out the merchandise that was put there to tempt you. Did you notice that they never have fresh veggies or fruit lining the aisles.

What they do have in abundance are “gossip” magazines. I would never stoop so low as to actually buy one, but I can flip pages to my hearts content while in line. You don’t have to actually “read” them, you just look at the pictures of all the “beautiful people” with problems. Is that suppose to make those of us without fame and fortune feel better? Kinda. Maybe?

Life in “the line” is also a fashion statement to the extreme. Since when did people go to the store in their pajamas, or wear their underwear on the outside of their clothing, or let every ounce of your well fed bodies hang out for all to see. I know more about your anatomy than you do. And some of it ain’t so pretty. Sometimes I am overwhelmed with the urge to yank down those pants that are already half way to your knees. But I am sure it would be for naught. For while standing in line at the deli one day, one such young man took his pants off and readjusted everything and put them back on. Way too much information!

And I would love to tell you how much my vocabulary has expanded . . . NOT! I do know a lot of words that I would never use in public or anywhere else. Why do people think that vulgar language makes them . . . I don’t know, smart, hip, cool? It certainly doesn’t make them look intelligent. It does make them appear trashy, uneducated, and most certainly unemployable. I would never hire someone who found it necessary to express themselves with four letter words! Do you realize how you sound?

But my biggest issue is how you treat your children. I can tell what kind of person you are by how you treat your children and animals. My heart aches when I hear you yell and debase your little ones for just being children. Now those that are having tantrums, they need an education, but those who are just being kids don’t deserve to be told to shut up, threatened with who knows what, or told they are dummies. You are very scary sometimes. And my heart bleeds for the damage you are doing to the next generation.

I could share information concerning your diets, personal problems, medical misadventures, intimate issues, and a boat load of other stuff. Beware of us quiet ones, we might appear to be invisible, but we are listening. I have probably taken eavesdropping to a fine art. And I often wish I hadn’t.

Just writin' on the River Road

Livin' it up in Glenns Ferry

Do you know how proud I am to be a part of this community?  For a "spot in the road" this little town is busier than a jumping bean.

We will celebrate our second community wide Fall Harvest Festival on October 27th.  From the looks of things, it has expanded and grown in just one year.  There are booths for shopping, food to try, a chili cook off, games to play, costume contests, trunk or treat, and so much more!  It is  so heartwarming to see the community step up and participate. Whether you sponsor a booth, provide an

Servers at theThanksgiving dinner.

activity, or just come to spend the day having good time, you will all add to the fun and flavor of the day.

We have another community event coming in November. It is the annual Community Thanksgiving Dinner on November 17^th at the VFW Hall. Each year I watch more and more people take ownership of this event by providing food, setting up and cleaning up, serving, and helping in so many different ways. I love to hear the cacophony of all those voices visiting with each other, enjoying their meal, and reaching out to get to know one another as they fellowship together. This is what our country is about . . . sharing, caring, and reaching out to each other.

Another event that has been going on for a number of years is the annual Coat Give-Away on October 20th. Each year we collect coats, hundreds and hundreds of coats, thanks to the community’s generosity, and give them to anyone who has a need. There are no questions asked, no need to qualify . . . just come and get a coat so you won’t be cold in the winter. Approximately 300 coats are dispersed in our area alone. The rest are passed on to homeless shelters or other entities that can reach

Free coats.

people in need.

And then we have all the activities coming up for the holidays. I would love to see the community organizations step up and participate in the Holiday Light Parade on November 24th as well as the various activities offered by the Dickens Festival which begins December 2nd. You are all needed: whether you participate in one of the many contests, dress up in a period costume, sing carols, attend a tea with Mr. Dickens or enjoy the performance of “A Christmas Carol”.

And add to this list the Fourth of July Celebration, golf tournaments, Community Church services in the park, the Grape Stomp Fest at the winery, crab feeds, the fishing and kayaking, hunting deer and fowl and we are one busy place!

Just look at that list! We are but a small spot on the map with no major employment to speak of, not a lot going for us (if you just look on the outside). So how does this happen? What is it that sparks this community to strive to be something more? Are we different from other places? I don’t think we are

Shoppers at the Harvest Fest.

all that different from people in other areas. There are good, caring people everywhere. Perhaps we are fortunate that we are small and must work together to make things happen. We don’t have a lot of money (which in my opinion is highly over rated), but we have heart!

Because we don’t have major funding, we have to be creative and innovative. How wonderful is that? We all have talents, gifts, abilities, ideas and thoughts. We need each other. By bringing them all together we have created clever and creative ways to make our little community fun and visible to visitors. Are you new to the area? Please join in and throw your ideas into the mix. Nothing is “set in cement” around here, we are in a constant state of growth and expansion. Which is as it should be.

As I have said ever so many times, “If you talk long enough about the possibilities, someone else will catch your enthusiasm, and the dream will happen”. Listen, learn, grow, participate in whatever way you can. Everyone can add to our community to make it special. You are needed. What can you do? How can you help? Just start hanging out with your friends and neighbors and you will find a place that fits you like a glove. If you don’t, maybe it is time for you to step up to the plate and start something new that will enhance our area.

Just writin' on the River Road

My life with goats

Have you ever really wanted something on accounta it was just cute?  I fall prey to that quite frequently.  Especially if it has anything to do with critters.

And so my life with goats began.  I wanted some. I mean I really wanted some cute little bouncy goats!  But in my life I also have a husband.  A husband that takes a lot of wearing down before he will concede he has lost the battle.  It took over two years . . . I am nothing if not persistent.

I finally located some goats for sale relatively cheap.  In retrospect, cheap might have been the key word.  So we packed up the truck and drove 60 plus miles to pick up three goats.  And a very mixed bag they were.  Not really the cute "little" goats I had planned for, but they were goats.  And you can't

"Treats please!"

back out once you have won the battle.  So after much haggling and numerous people engaged in catching the little buggers, we were on our way.

We had prepared an enclosure for the goats.  What we were not was very "goat savey" at this point.  Jerry got the first one out, put her in the pen and she promptly jumped the gate and headed off into the wild blue yonder.  One down.  Number two was a little squirrelier and managed to slip out of Jerry's cold, wet hands.  He headed through the yard running over the cat who was so shocked he fluffed up like a basketball with four little legs and didn't leave the house for a week.  Number two went over the river bank.  He was free to wallow in blackberries all he wanted but we were not going there!  Number three made it to the pen, locked behind the gate which was now nailed in place!  The steam was literally rising from my husband's collar.  By this time it was raining and dark and we were both cold, wet and smelled like goats!

Hence began the great goat round up.  Between us, the neighbors and various contraptions, we spent days trying to corner the escapees. They had no idea where "home" was or who these wanna-be cowboys were that chased them from here to kingdom come.  Eventually we cornered one in the barn and got him locked up.  We finally just gave up on the third one.  After three days of being chased by people, cows and dogs, she resigned herself to stand at the gate pleading to be let in with the other two.  After that whole  fiasco, they had no desire to ever leave home again, even if we left the gate open.

But the great goat learning curve was not yet over.  I also found a purebred pygmy goat that I purchased for my herd.  Lacy was cute, little, bouncy and pregnant.  And I was so excited to have a

Dinner time for Whizzer

baby goat!  We watched and waited until she finally went into labor.  We waited and waited but nothing happened.  Turns out the kid was breech and did not survive.  But we were not sure if she was actually done since most of the time they have twins.  So I called the former owner and she said to bring her half way and she would meet us.  So at midnight we did a goat pelvic exam in the parking lot of the gas station.  No baby.  I left Lacy with her former owner for treatment.  On the way home my droll husband says "We really ought to go out more often."  Really?

Not yet done with the learning curve, we did not understand that goats are browsers not grazers.  So all this lush grass we offered up to them was met with much distain.  They would rather stand on their hind legs and snip the leaves off the nearby trees.  Which was not a problem until Molly leaned a little too far over the fence and became tangled in the wire and hung herself by her hind leg.  By the time I found her she was in shock.  We got her untangled only to find the foot was broken.  I mean really broken....as in you could turn it all the way around broken.  Neither on of us wanted to haul the very cheap goat to the veterinarian.  So we put it in place as best we could, used popsicle sticks for splints and taped it up with duct tape.  The vet was coming by the next day and we told him to stop and be prepared to put her down.  He seemed to think our "doctoring" was okay and went on his way.  The whole escapade had not slowed her down one little bit, not even a limp.  She had no problem standing on those hind legs and challenging me with her ten inch horns.  Now I understand the meaning of a "tough old goat".

All in all, it was a wonderful few years.  We arranged for a "borrow the buck" program so had a couple of batches of adorable babies.  One does not want a buck around for too long as they tend to

Maisy on her playground.

be a little "ripe".  The neighbors were always on the down wind side . . unfortunately for them.

 But the time came when we could not care for their feet anymore so had to find a new home for them.  It was hard to see them go, even harder to go out to their pasture and not have anyone come running for treats and attention.  But I have the memories of our adventures and misadventures to carry me through.

So long little goatlettes.  I miss you!

Just writin' on the River Road

Itsy Bitsy kitty

Did you know that God provides what you need the most when you least expect it? There are times when we have no idea what would make us feel better, happier, joyful . . . but God does.

Case in point: A few weeks ago, I heard this terrible caterwauling over by the barn. It sounded like bird screeching because it was locked in the jaws of cat. I could find nothing when I got there but could still hear the noise. Eventually I found a tiny kitten on the other side of the fence screaming its little lungs out. The neighbor had found it soaking wet in the sprinklers and ever so graciously offered to let me take it home.

It was too small and traumatized to eat. It couldn’t have been more than 3 weeks old. So “the old light” comes on upstairs and I remember that my friends have kittens about the same age. Surely momma won’t notice one more mouth at the trough. Or maybe she will. My friend, at least I think we are still friends, ended up keeping the kitten and feeding it goat milk every few hours day and night. When the kitten got so it could eat, she was returned like a bad penny.

I don’t need a kitten. I already have two cats. But she is awfully cute! A true calico with black and yellow spots on a white background with one tiny little black toe. So she arrives. And, as with all adoptees, she ingratiated herself initially. She cuddled and loved on us as only a kitten can. She was a peanut, literally a handful of fluff with four little legs. The honeymoon only lasted a few days. Once she discovered she could explore, the world was the limit! She gallops through the house like a herd of elephants, attacks your legs, arms, face with those needle fine claws and teeth screaming “play with me”, and then drops in the middle of the chaos for a much needed nap.

“The cat from hell” is so bent out of shape that she doesn’t even like herself. The other cat went on a hunger strike initially but is slowly beginning to rethink this little invader. Now and then she even lowers herself to play with the kitten. And even my husband is coming around. It is hard to be grumpy with a cute little kitten on your lap. Me, being the caretaker and playmate, I look like I have been through a meat grinder. Did I mention the sharp teeth and claws?

So just what does this little ball of fluff do for me? I laugh. Her antics are hysterical. It is akin to a “Tom and Jerry” cartoon to watch her navigate the slick floors at top speed. Her curiosity knows no bounds. All of life is an adventure to be explored and enjoyed to the fullest. I need to remember those things. Even when she has a “bad hair day”, which is all the time, life is good.

She bundles buckets of joy into her few ounces of fluff. She lives every moment to the fullest. I envy her energy. Watching her bouncing off the furniture, falling and diving back in for a second try, gives me joy and hope. Yes, hope. It is a reminder that no matter how many times I fall on my face, I can get back up, face the world, and try again.

And she is utterly fearless. Dogs, cats, people, doing a Tarzan swing on the shower curtain, leaping tall buildings with a single bound…..there is no fear. We could all take note of that. How much better, freer, finer would our lives be if we lived it to the fullest without fear. Fear is a terrible yoke to bear, it leaves us feeling helpless and hopeless. What if we just tossed fear to the wind and lived life as if there were no tomorrow? We should, you know. Right now, the present, is all we really have.

And like all babies, she plays. Oh, not with the toys I BOUGHT her, but with those things just laying around. I have empty toilet paper rolls everywhere, and sacks and boxes are more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Another lesson maybe? All the “stuff” in the world won’t make me happy. It is what I do with the stuff I have that brings joy and satisfaction.

So bid a welcome to “Itsy-Bitsy”, the newest member of our household. She will grow up and out of her fun stage in a short time. But every time I see her I will remember how God provided for me when I didn’t even know I was in need. What a special gift.

Just writin' on the River Road

Bed & Breakfast Lore

As some of you know, once I retired thirteen years ago I went to work!  But not for money, for satisfaction.  It is amazing how you can spend your whole life "chasing the dream" only to find it in your own back yard.

Initially, I began renting a room in our home and served breakfast to my guests.  This was kind of fun so I expanded and put another room in the barn for guests.  River Roads Bed & Breakfast started as a novelty but has grown into so much more.  It is a blessing, to me, and I hope to those who spend time with us.  Yes, I get paid, but it is so much more than that.  They share their lives, I share mine and we share a connection that is special.  I may never see them again, but they will remain forever in my memory.  They leave a little bit of themselves here with us.

The blackberry bramble.

We have had wonderful guests over the years.  Some stand out more than others for obvious reasons. One of the many places our visitors like to visit is the local winery for dinner, entertainment or golf.  To preface this story, you need to know that I live on the banks of the Snake River.  The bank is steep, inaccessible on foot and covered with wild blackberries.  One of our guests imbibed a little too much at the winery and decided to come home and go for a swim.  Getting in the river wasn't too much of a problem

since he went down river and jumped in.  Retrieving him was a little trickier.  He crawled up the 30 foot bank of blackberries in his summer attire.  We hosed him off and send him to bed.  I don't think he felt much pain in that moment, but by morning he was quite subdued and probably sensed every blackberry barb he had come in contact with.  His visit was probably as memorable for him as it was for us.


A while back we literally had guests "drop in" with a helicopter.  Two couples from the coast were

Helicopter in my yard.

passing through the area and since we had a patch of grass on which to land their rather expensive toy, we were the stopping point.  I have to admit to being a little prejudice by thinking that people who have money are all snobs.  Or perhaps I am just insecure.  These people were wonderful!  Just plain, old, everyday folks.  They were fun and entertaining.  And we were the talk of the coffee shop for a while!

And then there was the retired couple who fell in love with my goats.  Since I had one that needed a home, I was willing to part with him.  Problem: they had a midsized SUV.  Another problem, the goat had horns.  Really big horns.  Thirdly, they had no way to contain him.  Our guests came back from town with a dog collar and leash.  Hummmm.  I am thinking not.  This is not a nice little puppy.  All I could see was a goat punching out every window in the car, and then some.  It was decided (by us) to hog tie Mike and lay him in the back of the car.  Have you ever heard a goat scream?  High pitched, continual, ear drum bursting . . . and that doesn't really cover it.  We tossed him in, slammed the door and waved as they drove off.  It sounds awful but he made it to a very good home.  He walked his mistress everyday.

I have literally hundreds of other stories I could share with you from guests bungee jumping off the bridge into the canyon in the dark, to the Equine Dental School students who spend several weeks with us while attending classes.  We hear  joys and sorrows, their dreams and plans, and many other interesting sidelights from our guests.

We just never know what the next guest will bring into our nest.

Just writin' on the River Road

Wallpaper crafts

People tell me I am “crafty”. As in, I like to indulge in creating things . . . not that I am sly or sneaky!. Yes, I do like to “build” things, perhaps even more, I like to re-purpose things. Drop me off at a junk yard and life gets really interesting. Not if you are my husband, because I can fill up his garage with “stuff” in short order.

How do you see art? I used to have a very narrow view of what constituted art. But since I have opened a consignment store, the world has become my palate. It is amazing! Some people pursue the traditional “arts” but always with their own particular “spin”. Others take something that the rest of us would toss and create beautiful, unique art from it.

Now me, I never had an original idea in my life. But I can copy what someone else does. And with a few twists and turns, I can make it my own. I don’t know that there is anything wrong with “borrowing” ideas and personalizing them to make them your own.

The wall opposite my kitchen.

I have a couple of things that I do reasonably well and have worked at consistently over the years. The first being wall paper. I began like most normal people by applying it to walls. I soon ran out of walls. So then I turned to furniture. I have used all sorts of materials to create some unusual pieces over the years.  Everything from sheets of music to vintage magazines. I suppose what I do is more closely aligned to decoupage, except that I use wallpaper. I create scenes, themes, designs…...whatever comes to mind when I see a particular piece of furniture.

Sometimes I can see the finished product immediately, other times I wait for months or even years to find that “one” thing that fits a particular piece of furniture.

The other thing that I enjoy doing is recycling bed sheets into rag rugs. It has been a learning process for many years but feel I am finally getting it down pat. Bed sheets make wonderful rugs! You can’t kill them no matter how hard you try. I have had several outside on the porch for years and, like the energizer bunny, they just keep going. Bed sheets are soft, easily washed, and will last forever! So never throw out your worn sheets, they haven’t completed their life yet!

I acquired a loom several years ago. I am still working on making that “work”. It is definitely a learning process. And right at the moment my kitten is doing her best to undo everything I have done so far. I need to get motivated. Is it just me, or do other people put off things that they don’t know

Itsy Bitsy "helping" me.

how to do? I generally find that if I jump in with both feet, it isn’t nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. But it is hard to take that first step for some reason.

As we move on, I will share other things that I work on when the “creative bent” hits me. And I would love to hear about your unique ideas and abilities. Careful….I might borrow them.

Just writin’ on the River Road

The Dash

Some of the most inconsequential things are often the most thought provoking. Have you been to a cemetery lately? There is something on every single monument that we never really consider. No, it isn’t the name, or even the dates . . . it is that little mark in between the dates. The “dash”. Yes, it is nice to know when that person was born and when they died, but what is more important is the life they lived in between those dates.

What did they do with their time here on earth? How did they spend those years? What did they accomplish? Who did they effect? Did they make a difference to someone? Are they remembered? The “dash”. It can cover a few days for an infant or over a hundred years for others. Some of us get a long “dash”, others are not so fortunate.

What are you doing with your “dash”? In hindsight, I wish I had done a lot of things with my “dash”. But I can’t go back, I can only go forward. So knowing that my “dash” is mostly behind me, I need to take advantage of that which is yet to come. Should I make a grand plan to change the world? Maybe. Or should I just throw in the towel and ease out of life?

Does your “dash” equal kindness, generosity, helpfulness, patience? Or is it filled loss, restlessness, unfulfilled dreams, distress. We have no control over the “dates” on our tombstone, but we have absolute control over our “dash”.

All this has made me think deeply about what I want to accomplish with the time I have left. What can I do to make my “dash” memorable? If my “dash” has changed one life for the better, then I would consider it a success. If my “dash” has brought my community closer together, that, too, is a success. If I can make a small difference somewhere, sometime . . . then I was successful.

But that “dash” doesn’t come without effort, trials, and long term endurance. Sometimes the “dash” is filled with pain, despair, loss, fear, helplessness. None of us seek out those things. Life happens and we are often caught in the middle. But we do get to choose how we react to those situations. And our reaction is what sometimes makes our “dash” memorable.

Will we be remembered for all time? Probably not. By the time our great-great-grandchildren come along, we will just be a monument in the cemetery with a dash in the middle. But if my “dash” makes a difference in one life now, and that is passed on to someone else, hopefully they, in turn, will pass it on to the next generation. People maybe forgotten but their actions are never lost.

So what are you going to do with your “dash”? Will you fill your days with playing solitaire (guilty), or will you decide to change something, create a masterpiece, encourage someone, help another in time of need? It isn’t the big things that make the most difference, it is an accumulation of small things . . . kind words, pat on the back, a helping hand, a smile. All those little things add up over time. Eventually they become big things that can change the world.

Looking back over my own life, I had many who encouraged me to try things, to go to school, to expand my horizons, to develop my talents, to be the best I could be. Without them, my “dash” would be rather empty. At the time, in the middle of the struggle, I didn’t always appreciate their presence or advice. But today, looking back, I thank God for each and every one of them. They made me better, stronger, and wiser than I ever thought I could be. Your “dash” can do that for someone in your life. You can make a difference that will be passed on to the next generation. Grow to your full potential, pass it on, pay it forward, make a difference. Life is short. Make your “dash” count!

Just writin' on the River Road