22 June …
I will start this week with a brag … or two.
First some background. Yesterday I sent John into Weed to get some toilet paper. I had mistaken a pack of paper towels for a pack of tp. Oh well …
Weed is a small, POOR town.
As he left the store, John found an open purse, in a cart, containing what appeared to be a significant amount of cash. He immediately took it into the store to see that it was safe. In the store, clerks were busy (or inattentive) and it took some time and frustration to get the purse into a safe place.
This area has been experiencing some problems with vagrants and homeless folks. The clerk to whom John finally was able to give the purse seemed to class him with those others. Really dumb. Had he been one of them he would have pocketed the cash and disappeared. Right?
At any rate, John came home and shared what had happened. I shop at that store. I know the financial status of the town. I know the clerks at that store. I called to tell the manager (who went to school with my sons) that I thought it was an unfortunate handling of the incident.
As a result, we learned the woman to whom the cash belonged had returned, crying, and was reunited with her purse.
And on another subject … my other son opened his church to any and all for support and sanctuary following the Orlando incident.
These incidents made me so proud of my sons
Radio stuff was prominent last week and weekend.
At the radio club meeting wednesday evening, there was a discussion in re the security watch we contract with the Mt Shasta Chamber of Commerce 4th of July Committee for vendor protection. Questions in re responsibilities and liability had come up and caused some concern (and a little animosity) as had the request for extended hours without an offer of extended compensation. Resolution took a few prickly minutes, but seems to have been handled.
Several problems arose at the last minute concerning the Castle Crags Bicycle Event. George got them resolved … not easily, but they were resolved, and the event went well.
There had been rain on wednesday, and thursday, and friday. Saturday, for me, started with the drive up the road to Mumbo Summit where there was snow on the ground. The temperature was 32° and within half an hour it was snowing. Result? Lots of cold fingers and toes and red noses.It is an interesting location at the top of the mountains where the Pacific Crest trail crosses the road. This year we met with hikers from North Dakota on the trail.
That was between 0800 and 0900.By 1100 most of the snow was melted and the sun was breaking up the clouds.
This year my station folks were “Star Wars” people. The boom box was blaring out the Star Wars soundtrack and there were two Princess Leia’s, an Obi Wan (who welcomed riders into the stop), and a Tuskin Raider. I carried Yoda on my chest. But there was no Wookie.
Oh well …
We saw 153 riders through that station (one of whom was a clown). That was about half of the total participants (the others were on different courses). The count made me smile thinking about the Anderson ride a few weeks ago where the total participant count was 85. As one rider said … “Siskiyou Rocks!”
The volunteers at Mumbo are talking about being girl scouts next year with badge sashes and badges for things like eye make-up and lollipop licking and cookie selling. I wonder if we’ll be required to wear bobby socks and beanies? And what would make a good sound track?
The radio club’s health and welfare efforts were VERY appreciated. We had two riders who needed “rescuing” … one with an electrolyte problem (he was overweight and had not eaten anything before he began the 23 mile CLIMB up to Mumbo) and one with a severe thigh problem after about 50 miles (he was only a week past physical therapy for a fractured femur).
At the end of the day, two riders had not returned but they were two guys from the Bay area who had started late due to weather and were first time mountain bikers. The rain had washed away some of the route markings at the far south end of the course. We tracked them almost to Dunsmuir so the guess was they got lost on their way through that area and probably wound up at the Dunsmuir brewery where they could refresh and get directions.
It was a long day. We left home before the sun was up and got home after 1800.I finished my stint down at Railroad Park, admiring the old snow plow.
Sunday was a let’s-just-veg day.
Kitten report … He is still small, but he thinks he is big and is beginning to act that way. He bosses the hens and now puts them away in the house before I get out to close them in for the night. He allows me to stroke him and pick him up, but is no longer content to settle. He wants down and wants his food.
I sort of enjoyed the “kitten”, but he is meant to be a working cat, so this change is good.
He appears to be a survivor.
Last thursday, on my way into town as I went down the hill, an interesting animal crossed the road. It had ears like a coyote and a nose like a fox. Its coat was red, not the grey-brown mix of a coyote. It was small for a coyote, but large for a fox. I’d never seen one like it that I remember.
Later, at the Family History Center, I was talking with a friend who grew up in this area and he told me that many years ago there was a fox farm on Old Stage Road (must have been the 30s when women wore foxtail boas). The farm was surrounded by a nine-foot fence. One year they had a twenty-foot snow storm.
He also told me the foxes they were raising had an odor similar to that of skunk, just milder, which is noticeable during mating season when the males are marking territory. We have experienced skunk odor around here this spring. It has been fainter than usual skunk and we have seen no overt sign of skunk actions.
Maybe we have one or more representatives of the fox-coyote cross sharing residence space at Cold Comfort.
John is here.
First task was to get George and me back on track with our computers. George was having email trouble and I was having photo scanning trouble. All seems to be resolved, as least as resolved as it can be when dealing with computer dinosaurs. Fortunately, John understands both computers and parents as well as teaching methods.
Next came getting plants into the ground.
He brought cherries from Marysville. I first thought to make some jelly or preserves. Then decided “No”. We will enjoy eating them fresh. I may make a cobbler. And when they’re gone that will be it for this season and we can anticipate next year’s season.
Tuesday night, John took his photographic equipment out and took this time shot of the mountain in Solstice moonlight. See the star tracks? It gave me chills.
FHC last week was a challenge. A lady brought in two very young girls (ten or eleven years old) with the idea of getting them started on full family trees. She had done no preparation with them.
We tried to get them started.
“What is you mother’s maiden name?”
“What’s a maiden name?”
“What name did people call her?”
“What is your grandmother’s name?”
“Nonnie.” (i.e. Italian for Grandmother)
Add to that effort the idea that my research partner’s style leans toward rapid demonstrations using her own tree … “See, this is my great-great-grandmother and if I check this …”
One girl started drawing a version of Celtic knots. The other kept looking out the window.
I wound up giving them pamphlets containing suggested questions to sit down with relatives and ask, and explaining how they could then come back with some answers and we would begin to build a tree. I don’t know if I did any good.
Oh well …
And my rant for this week …
I find it interesting that more and more people (in the following cases the “people” are young white women) are able to hold and support completely opposite and often conflicting views of a situation at the same time with nary a hint of disconnect or disorientation.
Case in point … subtle racism as in “She’s not like us. Her skin is too dark. She is not acceptable in our clique.” while spending time and money on tanning beds to get skin as dark as possible.
Or … deploring sexism, rape, and the demeaning of women while letting it be known that being dragged into a violent bed is exciting and desirable.
Tomorrow morning John leaves and it is George and my monthly trip to the retinologist in Medford.
So … ’til next week .,..
Smart people aren’t smarter than me. They’ve just read a book I haven’t read.