In this last week of the year we've gotten rain, rain and more rain, much more than we needed. Creeks throughout the county were flowing out of their banks over the weekend and many country roads were closed. Normally, it wouldn't have concerned me too much, safe in our house in town. But last week I was caring for critters while my sister Nancy and her husband Marlin were gone to California. By the time they returned late Sunday night, their place was pretty much one big mud hole.
The week started off with sunny days, although we were plagued with high winds several days. Our library manager, the mayor and library commission members enjoyed a delicious dinner at Hard Luck Cafe Monday evening. Steve gave us a choice of menus and I chose the beef. My steak was perfectly done and with a large salad, twice-baked potato, roll and mixed veggies cooked to just the right tenderness. I had enough leftovers to take home for Tuesday's lunch. My meal was capped off with a tasty slice of New York cheesecake.
On Tuesday, I drove out to see friends on Stagecoach Road. We had a good visit and they sent me home with a couple of packages of ground venison. We used one to make spaghetti sauce over the weekend. Another friend left a bowl of fruit and candy in my car seat a couple of weeks ago and I've enjoyed the sweet, juicy grapefruit with my breakfast, snacked on the pear and treated myself with candy. A visitor at our door brought another box of candy on Friday, so we're well supplied with sweets.
We've received greetings from far-flung friends and relatives in recent weeks. Some news is good, some not so good. Friends in the Chicago area enjoyed a vacation to North and South Carolina, including a horse-drawn carriage ride and a trip to the Biltmore Mansion. Relatives in Arizona celebrated their 50th anniversary with kids and grandkids on the north shore of Kauai. But a high school classmate lost her husband in March and only 11 days later broke her left ankle and fractured the right. Jim's mother has been hospitalized recently and his sister dislocated her knee a few months ago.
All week I've been feeding and watering chickens, quail and cats while Nancy and Marlin were away. I arrived at their place just as a downpour began to fall on Saturday so I sat on an overturned five gallon bucket in the feed room until the rainfall lessened a bit. The rain continued throughout the night and conditions had worsened on Sunday. As I drove down the hill, I had to dodge debris, brush and large rocks that had washed into the roadway. At their farm I decided I couldn't cross the creek in my tennis shoes, so I drove to the neighbor's house and borrowed a pair of tall boots. I fared no better with the new footwear. The water was not very deep, but it washed down the gully with such force it knocked me off my feet and the boots were soon filled with water.
I picked myself up, went back to the neighbor's and walked across the yard to the poultry pens. I hurried through the chores as I was wet and getting wetter with the steady rain. It was getting colder too, making my saturated jeans even more uncomfortable. I'd found a few dead quail earlier in the week but that day, to add to my distress, I found four dead birds in the pen. I removed them, poured the last of the feed into the feeder, gathered the eggs and took them to the house. I made my way back up the hill to town and, just after I arrived at home, Nancy called. They were in Dallas awaiting their connecting flight and expecting to return home a few hours later. I was rather relieved that my days of doing farm chores were over.
As the new year arrives in only two days, I'm reminded of John J. Rowlands, who commented in his "Cache Lake Country" that starting a new year is like heading into strange country with no map to show you what's round the next turn in the trail or what lies behind the hills. "You never know when a storm may break, never can be sure you won't hit white water round a bend in the river, and the big lakes you thought would be rough and dangerous as often as not turn out to be easy traveling."
Rowlands recommends that a man not try to look too far along the trail. A good Indian packer, he says, keeps his eyes on the trail at his feet, looking for the roots and the rocks that might trip him. Generally, he gets where he's going without falling. I wrote about his advice at this time last year but I think it deserves repeating.
Susan Holland is a longtime resident of Benton County and a reporter for the Westside Eagle Observer. She may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 12/30/2015