IT'S ALL ABOUT THE PUMPKINS!

This is one last shot of my pumpkins in all their splendor. We expected a frost last week so I went out and took some parting shots. Say goodbye to the summer look.

After the frost ~ It is sorta like the big reveal. The leaves shrivel up and the pumpkins are exposed. There isn't anything about the life of a pumpkin that isn't beautiful to me. (well, maybe when my love for orange turns to my love for red and green at Christmas)

Pumpkins don't ask for much. Just a good piece of ground, water, sun, water, more sun. They prefer to be Jack-O-Lanterns ~ no canning needed here. (Although I have done that before. ) So what's not to love.

MY LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP WITH CANNING.

MY LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP WITH CANNING

I don’t know where I adopted the idea of canning as part of my duty as a homemaker. But somewhere it became important to me….that and making homemade bread.

The fall semester I didn’t go back to NAU my mom came up with this idea of picking wild grapes at Lone Pine Dam and making jelly. So we did just that. That was my first experience with canning anything. Because it was fall and because that was a good time in my mom’s life that stands out as a sweet memory for me. But as a rule Mom didn’t do any canning that I remember. I think she did before me but I never saw her do any. So I didn’t get it from my mom.

We lived in Joseph City when we were first married and people there canned everything. That might be where I first decided that canning was cool. When we moved to Show Low I was barely pregnant with Peter. I didn’t feel very good but didn’t know why. I put some canning things on “layaway” and forgot I did that. By the time I remembered they had re-shelved them and sold them. I was disappointed but also sicker and didn’t really care.

The first thing I really canned was from a recipe that my Aunt Vi sent me from Ogden, Utah. It was a “hamburger helper”. Mom helped me do it. We did it when I was about 3 months pregnant with Peter and I could never use it. The thought of it made me sick.

By the fall after Peter was born I wanted to can. We had neighbors, the Smithson’s, who gave us a ton of green tomatoes. I asked what do to with them. They are the ones who told me about chow chow. Which is just relish made with green tomatoes. I made a ton. (lesson to learn here: if nobody in your family has ever used chow chow – it is a lot of work for nothing)

Fast forward to this fall. I have done a lot of canning though the years. I do have green tomatoes this year and may make some chow chow and green tomato mince meat. I know….why? Because I have this feeling I need to can everything I can. But that doesn’t mean I am happy to do it.

And that is why I wonder why I kill myself to grow a garden, pick, gather, sort, wash, cut, wash bottles, boil lids, find the canners, find the instructions, boil water or syrup, load jars, screw on lids, load canners, process, unload canners and find a place to store the bounty. (I do love seeing the work done on my shelves.)

I do and did feel like it was important for my children to see some self-reliance. I know we have always been at the mercy of the water company but I do know how to grow a garden. And I know that Pete helped with a garden this year, Jill brought her children to Pinetop and they picked the garden, and Tim and Connie had a small back yard garden.
Jeremiah and Bode started a planter garden…how’s that coming? And Lee always asks what I am canning. That pleases me. I think they feel grounded when they are in a garden.

TO SMILE OR NOT TO SMILE THAT IS THE QUESTION.

I know it is hard to smile at a face that looks like a camera. We tried to get Laine to give us just a little smile at the ball game on Friday night. That is the cutest face but...nope....no smile.

These are actually pretty good considering that she cried everytime she got close to me.

Camping

Even one night of camping is fun. Jill and John came up and we went camping Sunday evening through Monday morning. What is it about camping that refreshes everything?

~

This is Quinn and Parker. I just loved the sun shining down on them as they walked down the road.

VA Hospital in Prescott, AZ

David and I went to Lee's volleyball tournament in Prescott two weekends ago. Prescott is a neat town. We really thought it was pretty. I had him drive down to the VA Hospital. We came to Prescott twice before and both times were to go to the VA Hospital with Randy.

Since he was a veteran he had medical care benefits. Both visits were to detox and rehab. The first time was very successful and he was dry for almost a year. The second time wasn't as long.

He had worked in sheet metal for years. He was a union worker. His last really good job was with Becktel at the Joseph City Power Plant. He worked there for a couple of years. I think he moved back to the valley for a bit and then back to Show Low. His drinking had ruined his ability to hold down a job and probably kept him from doing a good job.

He lived with like minded friends until no one could pay rent and he moved home with Mom. (that kinda makes me laugh ~ he was probably in his late 30's by then. As a side note he was arrested once for some type of disorderly conduct and the local newspaper said that "he was released to the custody of his mother".....

I think Mom thought she could rehabilitate him. She might also have thought it would be nice to not live alone. There was no rehab there. Mom only enabled him. For example: Jeff and David and maybe Milo went and cut wood for Mom for the winter. One day upon a visit we noticed that the wood was gone. Asking where it went, she told us that Randy needed some money so she let him sell it. Another time she let him sell a squash blossom necklace, which she had had all the years I was growing up ~ it was the real thing. Again, because he needed money.

Randy's drinking was destroying all the good in him. He always had a good heart but the longer he drank the deeper that was buried. It didn't help that Mom loved to sprinkle salt on his wounds regarding his dad. Mom called one afternoon saying that Randy was headed to Dad's house with a gun. David had to intervene. I don't think Randy was that serious but who knows what provoked that!.....Mom.

These kinds of things are what made us decide to convince Randy to go to the VA Hospital. Any veteran can walk through the door and after signing in and a wait can be taken in. It was easy enough just to say he was there to get help with his drinking.

I can't remember how willing he was the second time. (I made an appointment for this trip because he kept saying that it takes so long to be seen and we thought at that time he was trying to hedge but really had no way out than to go and hope we got tired of waiting.) He was called in right on the dot and I remember how surprized he was. But after a few minutes of discussion they said goodbye to David and me and took him to detox.

He came home for a while but Mom had had enough and he left. He stayed with Coleen in Phoenix for a bit but it was very difficult for her. So he moved out. We weren't sure where he went. (I can't remember the time line.) But one morning Mom received a phone call that Randy had passed away. He had rented a one room hole in the wall and died alone in the heat of the Phoenix summer. He had a heart attack. I think he was 47-48. He was dead for about two days before he was found. The owner of the apartments got suspicious and called the police.

What a sad story.

LIFE IN A JAR

My daughter, Heidi, sent me a link that is meant to aid a person in the writing of their life history. I realize my current life is boring and that that is why Heidi gave me the link....hoping that I can compose some fascinating or otherwise interesting stories about growing up, etc.

I am involving David in the "Life In A Jar" project. We will be traveling to Lee's volleyball games and I have him cornered so he will be forced to tell me stories. As a matter of fact, I have already gotten one story out of him. I laughed at it. I included one on the same subject as his and both of them involve bikes and that is not intentional.

Describe a favorite childhood friend and some things you did with him/her.

This is David's friend.

Ross Frasier. He was shorter than me and had blonde blonde hair. He had trouble cussing. There were several instances that he got in bad trouble because of things he would say. If he said them in the presence of his mother, which he would do, I was always sent home and he got in bad trouble.

I had a mini bike. I don’t remember where I got the motor but it was a Clinton two stroke 7 horse power motor. It didn’t have a throttle. I finally got it started with a rope start but the rope also broke. So, it had a centrifugal force clutch. The faster the motor went the clutch would engage but if the motor ran slowly the clutch would disengage or be free wheeling. I figured out if I pounded pennies between the boots and the drum to make it solid and I could get Ross to push me on it and it would start. And it would go. It was just wide open all the time. So when you needed to stop or slow down you would reach down and pull the spark plug wire off….making sure you grabbed the rubber part not the metal part or it would shock you. Pull it off for a while and it would slow down and then put it back on and you would go again. If you wanted to stop completely you would pull the spark plug wire and drag your feet as there were no brakes.

I got really good at it and would drive it all over the place. But I needed Ross to get it started. So he was always left behind. So once he asked if he could drive it so I explained how it worked and he thought he knew. So he got on it and I gave him a push and off he went down the road and kept going faster and faster and faster when he wanted to stop he reached down and grabbed the spark plug wire but he didn’t grab the rubber part. It shocked him. When it shocked him he crashed. I could see it all happen. So I went running down there to save him. It was about dark when this all happened and you could see the flames being thrown out of the exhaust and the spark lugs arcing. The mini bike was on its side and the motor was just screaming as it was going faster and faster.

By the time I got there Ross had recovered and was standing over the bike and kicking it. He was trying to kick the spark plug wire off so he could stop the bike. But every time he kicked it, it arced and shocked him. I pulled the wire off and pulled it away so it would stop arcing.

My dad saw the whole thing. And that was the end of the mini bike. He thought the motor ran too fast and was dangerous and he took it off the bike. After that I traded it all for a go cart frame with no rear wheels and no motor. But that is a story for another day.

My Friend.

That would be Caroline Pew.

The Pews moved to Show Low when I was 3 or 4 years old. My dad always had a way of making friends with whoever was in town. Caroline’s dad, Walter, liked dad. They had moved from Phoenix to own and operate a Hostess Bakery Goods Distributing company. The Pews liked to go out into the woods so our two families spent a lot of time in the Pinedale area. ( I never spent much time in the White Mountains until I started dating David. I much prefer the pines to the cedars but I have feelings and memories that come back when we are near Pinedale). Caroline and I would make houses that were outlined by pine needles. We would make kitchen areas and bedrooms, etc. We always brought dolls or stuffed animals for our children. Our parents were always looking for Indian ruins. So we just played house.

We were in the 5th grade when we all got bikes. We would ride all over town. (No stories like David’s.) We just found hills to go down and went to the grocery store for pop. One summer day Caroline and I left my house, which was at the top of a hill, and headed down. I just took off and assumed Caroline was behind me. When I stopped at the stop sign and turned to talk to her I saw her half way up the road on the ground. She had driven into a soft spot of dirt and crashed. I rode back up to where she was and ….ouch…she had a couple of rocks about the size of quarters stuck in the side of her knee. I thought it would help if I washed them off with dirt water. After I did that and that didn’t help anything we limped our way up to my house where my mom called her mom and she came and took Caroline to the doctor…..for rock removal and stitches. I always felt that I was blamed for this incident. Caroline was a forgiving soul but I don't know about her mom and her cousin Diane Beismeyer.