A Mother's Hands

Every time I do certain things, like petting the cat or peeling vegetables, I see my mother's hands.  It is a strange feeling that I haven't really come to terms with yet.  Do I want to be like her or not?  Do I want to accept my age, probably not. Some how this whole "hand" thing
bothers me and I am not quite sure why.

Am I reminded of her last few years when those fingers were feeble and unable to do the things we all take for granted, like buttoning up her shirt?  Her hands fluttered because she wanted to do things that weren't as easy as they had once been.  Perhaps I am beginning to see that in myself and I don't much like it.

Her hands were weathered from years of hard physical work.  She lived without the things I take for granted today.  Washing clothes was an all day affair of heating water on a wood stove, washing things by hand, hanging it on the clothes line in good weather or bad.  It was carrying wood and water into the house and out again.  She gardened and canned everything, including venison and 100 chickens every year.  Those things were all boiled for hours on a wood stove in the scalding heat of summer to preserve them.

I remember those hands cracked and bleeding from being in water and then outdoors in the dead of winter.  She would put grease on them and wear gloves to bed at night to encourage healing.  Those hands mended our clothes on a treadle sewing machine, they washed diapers by hand, they cooked our food on a wood stove, they never had time for anything relaxing or fun.  It wasn't until she was into her 70's that she began to read again.  There was never time for that before.

So when I see my hands and find them similar to her's, there is no comparison to the things they have done.  We take so many things for granted through life, but our hands are truly a remarkable piece of equipment.  They can soothe our hurts, create lovely, intricate art, caress a loved one.  In and of themselves, they are a true work of art.

So what bothers me about seeing my mother in myself?  I am not sure.  Perhaps it is the age thing.  Maybe it is the inability to do the things I used to do, or possibly I just don't want to end up as she did.  I do know that I yearn to do so many things in the autumn of my life...…..to begin a bucket list.  To fulfill a bucket list.  I don't want to just let life happen anymore.  I want to take it by the horns and go out in a blaze of glory!  Or at least give it a shot until my fire burns out.  Young people don't understand that your need for "living", having experiences, or adventure doesn't die just because your body ages.  One just has to get a little more creative to accomplish some of those things.

A "older" couple came in the store the other day.  She carried oxygen and it was apparent she had a difficult time breathing.  But they were out and about doing things.  As they left, they each got on their big, shiny Spyder motorcycles and drove off.  Yes!  I say go for it.  Who says we have to drive a outdated sedan in our "golden" years!  They were living their dream.

Someone posed a question to me the other night.  Do we ever see our parents as anything but "parents"?  Do we see their desires, their dreams, their hurts, their passions.  I have to admit that I never considered those things with my parents.  They were just there.  Mine was a different generation where you were not "friends" with your parents.  I think some of that has changed but not all.  Do me a favor.  Ask your Mom or Dad about their dreams.  Ask them how they feel about things.  And listen to their answer.  You might be surprised that they feel pretty much the same as you about most things.

Just Writin' on the River Road

A little romance on the frontier?

Saturday, July 15  Got up about 11, went shopping, got some pictures.  Then took a walk over Skagway Bridge to Pirate Cove and then out to a point.  On our way we met a young man, Joe, and he came along.  He was very nice and made the walk most entertaining.  I like him.  He had blue eyes, light hair and a mustache - tall and athletic.  He helped check in the freight when the boat docked.  He liked walking and hiking.  Got home about 4:30.  Went to see the Yukon come in and the Prince George go out.  Came back and M treated me to a big dinner at the hotel.  Then took a walk to the boat with Didi.  Met Johnny down there and talked in the observation room while they came home.  We had banana ice cream cones.  Talked in the lobby a while then went to bed.

Sunday, July 16  Got up about 9. dressed and packed, checked out about 10.  Fooled around the hotel lobby.  Couldn't go on a hike because it was raining.  Ate at a café then played the piano for a while in the lobby.  Then about 3:30 got a taxi to take over our bags.  Went on board the ship.  I was sleepy so went to our room to sleep.  M stayed on deck and got our table settings, table K.  Seems nice.  Three teachers who are jolly, a doctor and his wife (doctor is very dark and handsome and as all doctors, easy conversationalist), so we are well off.  After dinner watched the boat leave the dock about 7.  Stayed on deck to enjoy the scenery and played deck tennis.  Stayed on deck until about 10:30 then went and had a midnight lunch.  I am in the habit now from the river boats.  Then went up to the observation room, danced some and talked.  The doctor joined M and I about 11:30 and we chatted until 12 when things were over.  M and I went on deck again.  Beautiful, the sharp, rugged mountains silhouetted against the clouded sky with now and then stars peeking through - was lovely.  We could hear the swish of the water churned by the propellers of the ship.  Now to bed at 12:30.  We get to Juneau at 7 this morning.

Fish cannery

Monday, July 17  Got up about 6:30.  Walked around Juneau.  Came back and had breakfast at 9.  Played shuffle board and sat on deck til noon.  After lunch we got to Hawkins Inlet.  I went ashore - M didn't.  Wild berries grow in abundance - blueberries and loganberries, the last not ripe yet.  Mr. Shedd took me through a cannery.  It wasn't running but you could see all the machinery.  Next we stopped Hula, another cannery where we again loaded canned salmon.  This was about 7, after dinner.  Played shuffle board until about 10, then went to the midnight lunch.  To bed about 11.  Had a fire drill this morning.  the fire hose got away from its keeper and M and I got a shower bath.  Bet I'm lame tomorrow from shuffle board.  Played three games against two college boys and M and I beat each time.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Life and then some

I am thinking that you will find this article very "off key" for me.  Perhaps even depressing.  And I admit to being in a "funk" from time to time.  So maybe I am just being "funky"?

A line from Walden by Henry David Thoreau has been running through my head of late.  Maybe I feel it more now because of my situation, but I don't think it is just me.  Thoreau said "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. . .".  There is more to the quote but I will address that later.

I had a pastor once who emphasized being "real" to other people in our lives.  I was struck by that but at the same time realized that most "other" people don't really want to hear my problems.  That used to make me feel bad until I discovered that we all lead lives of "quiet desperation".  I have no idea what is going on in your life, in your mind......I tend to judge by what is available to me on the surface.  When you tell me you are "fine", then I have grave concerns when you do something that isn't "fine".  I have decided that we all live hidden lives deep within ourselves.  It is there that we hide our hurt, pain, frustration, anger, insecurity, fear and a multitude of other emotions and memories.  All those hidden things that can overwhelm us and sometimes cause us to over react, to do dumb things, to even hurt ourselves or others.

I can't speak for others, but from observation, I think we are all in the same boat.  Some days we float pretty well, other days we bail like crazy to keep afloat, and sometimes we let the boat sink.  We run to avoid our situation, or we hide, or we chose to ignore it . . . but it is always there.  Some are wise enough to face life head on, deal with "stuff" and move on.  Others hang on to it . . . in some strange way, we find comfort in what we "know", even if it hurts.  The unknown is more frightening than the pain and frustration with which we are well acquainted.  It seems a shame to be held hostage by our own demons.

All that being said, what do we do?  The rest of the quote is "and go to the grave with the song still in them."  And while the first part is profound enough, this last part is even more profound.  Yes, we have to deal with the things that life hands us, but how do we do that?  I, personally, don't want to go to my grave with "the song" never sung.  And I truly believe that we are all created to sing that "song", to share it with others, to use it to change the world.  But if I live only in quiet desperation, my song will not come forth.  So, do I clutch my painful, prickly "security blanket", or do I cast it aside and venture forth into the unknown?  I can choose.  Choices can be scary.  Do I take this road or that path, do I try this thing or something else, do I trust or not?  Choices.  It always boils down to choices.

And faith.  What do I believe?  Who do I believe?  And while I don't struggle with my faith, there are those days when I begin to wonder if my choices adhere to that faith or vice versa.  God is constant.  I can be volatile. I thought that by this age I would have things figured out.  Not so.

I wish I had all the answers for you.  I struggle with my own turmoil.  But I am less judgmental now of your actions because I know under all that bravado, there is someone living in desperation that has no idea how to access their song, much less share it.  Let us all be kinder, gentler, more caring of others.  Because we have no idea what is really going on behind the scenes.  Let's encourage each other to become a choir that can make a difference to someone or to all.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Obsession

What is our obsession with "stuff"?  Or more specifically, other people's stuff?  We recently had a Yard Sale weekend in Glenns Ferry and it was amazing the number of people who showed up and bought "stuff".  And often it is stuff that I would throw away.

Why?  Are we looking for a bargain?  Or a treasure?  Or what?  I will have to admit after nearly 10 years of operating a thrift store, I am not nearly as enthusiastic about "stuff" as I used to be.  After picking through donations each week, your enthusiasm begins wane somewhat.  But there is still that insatiable curiosity about what might be in the next sack, the next box.  And on occasion, there is a real treasure.  Once we found diamond earrings, so you just never know.

We are planning an auction in August.  Another one of those venues that attract people who have an obsession with other people's stuff.  In this instance, I will be grateful for each and everyone of those individuals.  Personally, I have little patience for auctions.  I want to buy it and leave.  I am not a shopper.  Invite me to dinner, to a movie, to a ton of things......but not shopping.  I remember an uncle who would come home with boxes of "stuff" from auctions.  He had no idea what was inside the boxes, or if he needed it, but it was a "deal" so he bought it.  And then the family had to deal with all those treasures when it fell to them to dispose of it.  This is recycling at its peak.

I read on Facebook that we spend two thirds of our life collecting "stuff" and the last third of our life trying to get rid of it.  That was so close to the truth that it actually hurt.  Initially we moved every few years (or sometimes months) so we never collected too much.  Well, at first.  In the beginning everything we owned went in a 1964 Comet with an ironing board strapped on top.  Then we graduated to a pickup, then to a U-Haul.  With the inclusion of children in our lives, we moved on to moving companies. Now having been parked in one spot for fourteen years, we may have outlived moving vans.

So how does one begin to downsize.  I like my stuff.  I might actually use it someday.  Of course, that someday could be years off.  Some of it I really like and don't want to get rid of.  I really have no use for it, I just like it.  Some are family heirlooms, some are things I have made over the years, some are gifts I got from significant people.  They are meaningful, although not necessary or even useful.

It is a conundrum.  How much stuff do we need?  Can we live without it?  Probably.  Can it be replaced?  Maybe.  Bottom line - can I take it with me?  I expect not.  Will my kids want it?  Some, maybe.  So what do I do with it?  Pass it on to someone else who REALLY needs more stuff?  Haul it to the dump or otherwise dispose of it?  Like I said, it is a profound conundrum.  I am beginning to understand those who choose to die and leave it all to someone else.  Yep......when in a conundrum, take the easy way out.

Just Writin' on the River Road

On the way back

After trekking across Alaska and parts of Canada, it appears that the girls are on their way home.

Wednesday, July 12th
Got up about 8 and we docked at Carcross again about 8:30.  We had our baggage checked to Skagway then went over to hear Paty Henderson's lecture.  He was a boy when the Bananga strike was made in "90".  He was with the four men.  He showed his Indian traps, talked broken English.  Went to the fur farm.  Saw the fox and mink.  Fox were shedding and looked most homely.  Our train left at 10 - had a delightful trip.  Babies and young make interesting company.  Went along t

he shore of Lake Bennett.  Stopped there for lunch, M and I didn't go.  Cost a dollar and we lunched on some candy and spent the time climbing the hill to the old church and taking pictures.  The rest of the trip was wonderful.  High snow capped mountains and water falls.  We stopped first at the boundary between the U.S. and Canada, next at Inspiration Point where a monument is erected to the pack horses and where you can see the trace of the old Yukon Trail.  Went over the high bridge, up Dead Horse Gulch and stopped again at Pitch Fork Falls.  Walked up the trail beside them and took pictures.  U.S. customs inspectors came aboard at the train yards at Skagway and inspected hand luggage.  The train stopped right in front of the Golden North Hotel.  M and I got room 19 on the third floor - $2 a day apiece.  Really is two rooms.  One bed back away from the windows over looking the street and one by them.  I have the bed by the windows but feel sorry for the door thing - it is so tired and sagging.  Did the washing this afternoon and it is drying over the head and foot of my bed.  First time we have running water for many a day.  Had dinner at the hotel dining room.  The went to the Pullen House and heard Mrs. Pullen tell about her experiences - most interesting.  Back here at the hotel at 11.  Mrs. Pullen knew Soapy Smith when he drove a freight wagon.

Jefferson Randolph "Soapy" Smith II was a con artist and gangster of the old west.  He is buried in Skagway.
Thursday, July 13th.

Soapy Smith

Got up about 12.  Made an appointment for 3 to get my hair fixed and then went shopping.  About 2 we went down to look over the Princess Louse.  At 3 did our hair.  About 5 came back to the hotel.  At 6 went to down to see the Princess Louise off.  Mr. and Mrs. Coats, Miss Point, etc. went.  Went down to Pullen House for while, then ate, then back to the hotel and M did a washing.  Eleven now and will try to sleep if our next door neighbors who are talking and laughing and playing the phonograph allow it.

Friday, July 14th

Skagway street car circa 1939

Got up about 8, took a ride with Martin Tyler in the Skagway street car.  Most amusing and very instructive.  Went to the Blanchard Flower Gardens.  M and I both took pictures.  I used one roll of color film.  About 3 went around by the Pullen House to see if Mrs. Young wanted to biking to the lake.  Asked another lady too.  By the time it was 4 we had our party together and we all took lunches with us.  Had a splendid walk, very lovely.  Ate our lunch by the Lower Dewey Lake then Mrs. Young made a ball of a rock with paper around it and we played catch.  Got done about 8 and watched a ball game till 9.  Came back home and took a shower, then to bed.  There is a dance tonight, wish I could go.

Just Writin' on the River Road

River trip on the Yukon

Back in 1939 this must have been the trip of a lifetime, especially for two young girls.  They seem to handle it all with such grace and confidence. 

Saturday, July 8th.  Ten thirty and still in bed.  Got up at 7, had breakfast and then stayed on deck until 12.  After lunch we landed at Selkirk and saw a Mountie.  Also saw some huskies.  The Indian lady with her papouse and four children who got on at a little trapping station, got off here.  Spent more time on deck and then after dinner had a dance.  I danced with the purser, Mr. Gate and Mr. Shedd. One of the crew played and they put up a collection for him.  This afternoon we came to a swift narrow part of the river and went up by cable.

Sunday, July 9th.  They called us at 7.  We were to be at Five Finger Rapids in an hour.  M and I got dressed and had breakfast then took pictures of the rapids.  We went through a narrow opening between rocks pulled by a cable.  Stayed on deck then until 11 when the boat docked for a minute to let those who wished take a four mile hike through the woods to meet the boat farther on.  Got on boat again at Carmack.  Got off at Bute Zantlus (?).  M and I went.  The woods have been burned over by a forest fire and there were thousands of mosquitos and I fell trying to out run them and ruined a pair of silk stockings and lost my haze filter.  But it was fun.  We saw a lake and a truck with chains behind and skids in front.  Waited for the boat which came along about one.  Some deck hands went swimming in the lake.  Had lunch then sat on deck for a while then played ping prong.  Ate a midnight lunch and went to bed.

Monday July 10th.  Slept late.  Didn't get up til ten then watched them load wood and spill some of it in the river.  Entered Thirty Mile River today.  The water is a clear blue again.  After lunch rested and after dinner played cards and ping pong.  Had a midnight lunch.  Passed one part of the Thirty Mile river, narrow and swift, for about ten minutes our boat just stood still then we pulled through.  Passed another river boat, The Whitehorse.  Tomorrow we get up early to start our trip from Whitehourse.  Saw beautiful sunset over Lake Leberge, bright red.

Side note: The Yukon River is also called the Thirty Mile River.  In fact, it is the 10th longest river in the world running for 3,200 miles through Alaska and Canada.  The Five Finger Rapids consists of islands in the river with only one area passable by boat.  Many of these places are mentioned in Jack London's "Call of the Wild".

Tuesday, July 11th.  Got up about seven, had breakfast the checked our baggage.  One bag through to Skagway, the other to the boat at Carcross.  Then M and I walked to Whitehorse Rapids about a mile.  Got a pictue of volcanic rock.  On the way back I got another roll of film.  The train left at 10 o'clock and we had a nice ride to Carcross.  M and I had invest a dollar in a parlor car seat so had an excellent view.  Got to Carcross just at 12 and went right on the boat.  We left in  about 20 minutes.  Mr. Worthum, the scheduling conductor, surprised us by giving us the two extra table sitting tickets so had first seating for meals.  Our cabin was still number 19, a very nice room just as on the Casba.  This boat is the Tuskie.  M and I stayed on deck all afternoon even though it was very windy.  The scenery was beautiful, rugged high mountains, snow capped.  The water was emerald color with white caps.  Got to Bin My Circle (?) at seven.  Walked along a lovely broad path to the house.  Path followed the jagged cliffs that jutted out over the water.  Mr. and Mrs. Swanson, host and hostess, greeted us a the house and we had rhubarb wine and cookies and coffee.  We signed their guest book.  She said every Christmas she reads the names aloud and Mr. Swanson says Merry Christmas.  They have a most beautiful garden, lovely flowers growing at the foot of towering mountains.  A Begonia flower as large as the span of M's hand and huge Poppies and Columbine.  Lovely vegetable garden too.  We took a short walk to see the source of the Talkie Glacier and a water fall.  When we came back, the purser said he would take us to see some beaver dams.  So Miss Yates, who wrote "The World is Your Oyster", another lady, a Mr. Roberts and Mr. Duvan, who owns Zuffy, and I went. The beaver had left that dam so we went on about a mile walk through the woods to another.  It was fun and the purser climbed out in the dam and tried to scare out some beaver but they didn't scare.  We made up story to tell on the boat that we had seen five beaver.  We got back to the boat just at  nine when we were supposed to leave and they were waiting for us.  Sat on deck for a while then went on the lower deck to sing songs.  One of the ship's boys played.  At 10:30 an officer blew a whistle and we had to stop then.  Some of the crew slept at that time.  We came up and had midnight lunch and went to bed at 11:30.

Just Writin' on the River Road.

Into Canada

After celebrating the 4th of  July, Pauline and Margret board a new ship from Canada and continue on their northern adventures.

Tuesday, July 4th.  In Canadian waters and flying the Canadian flag.  High mountains by the river again, lovely scenery.  Took a nap on the top deck in the sun.  M's fever is down to 101, feels much better.  Starting to eat.  We have a 4th party tonight.  I take charge of prizes.  Poor Mr. Poss - the ship's pest, as he is privately known.  At the amature on the other program, he told a most vulgar story.  He wanted to be on this program and finally backed the program chairman in a corner and demanded why he couldn't be on our program.  The chairman, in desperation, told him because the ladies objected to his stories.  Now he is looking like a whipped dog.  Oh dear, now I am beginning to feel sorry for him.  I hope I don't have to let my better nature get the best of me and have to act friendly.

Wednesday, July 5th.  Got off the boat about 9 after customs inspection, got our room, had lunch, slept, took a little walk, had dinner, slept.  About 10 went to dance.  Good time.  Got home about 12:15 - finally went to bed.

Thursday, July 6th.  Got up about 10.  Found out we were leaving tonight instead of tomorrow so signed out to get our room on the Casca - 19, just like the Yukon.  This is a Canadian boat, nice rooms the people say.  The doors open out onto the deck instead of into the dining room as on the Yukon.  Took a walk this morning to the port office and Robert W. Service's cabin where he wrote all his Yukon poetry.  Had a banana milkshake for lunch.  It is cloudy now and the show man is putting on a show at 3 o'clock.

Sidelight:  The Casca and the Whitehorse were the last two sternwheelers on the Yukon River.  Both were destroyed in a fire in 1974.  And Pauline was correct that the Casca had been built in 1936.


Later.  Went to the show but got thrown out.  There weren't enough to pay for running it so we got our money back.  Our baggage was put on board about 5 o'clock.  M and I took our coats over to our room.  It is the same number as on the other boat.  Much nicer rooms though, larger and newer looking.  The Casca is a newer boat, only one or two years old.  Our doors open out onto the deck here instead of into the dining room as on the Yukon which makes it much airier and easier to see the scenery.  M and I put her white mosquito netting over the door, there is no screen, so we can have the whole door open all night and still people can't see in very well.  Swell.  I had a bear steak dinner tonight.  M didn't go back ashore.  Then I came on deck and we sang farewell to the Yukon which sailed back to Nenana at 7.  They said they had never had a group that gave themselves and the crew such a good time as our group.  I had never had a group sing farewell before to the tune of "Farewell Ladies".  We sang goodbye to the ship Yukon, the Capitan and the crew, the cook, etc.  Fun.  We sailed about 10.  They gave us a midnight lunch then we went to bed.  It is now 12 and I can lie here to see the lovely Yukon scenery - green hills with many inlets and islands.  M is just about well now.


Friday, July 7th.  Got up about 9 - then went on deck to see the scenery.  More mountains now - good game country.  This afternoon we saw a bear, a big black one - climbed up the side of tree.  Stopped at Stewart about 11.  Took on some concentrate from the silver mine above there. It is going to the States.  Took a walk alone.  Two men had just shot a bear that morning and we watched them  skin him.  Back on deck met a Mr. King who got on there.  He pointed out a man who is an agitator and trouble maker.  Nicely dressed.  He said the Mounties were watching him.  Saw some Mounties in Dawson.  King also told about the Klondike river boat sinking in June 1936.  He was on it.  After dinner we watched the scenery again.  Boat stopped at a trapper cabin to leave some mail and lumber for a house and a radio.  Then Mr. Shedd and I played ping pong.  They have a real table here.  Played a game with the purser too.  Then had midnight lunch, now to bed.  It is still daylight all night long but not as bright as it used to be.  Resolved to get up for breakfast tomorrow so now to sleep - 12 pm.

Just Writin' on the River Road