Sweet Hyacinths and Neighborly Love

Spring coming to Preston at last brings these fragrant, beautiful hyacinths in bloom, and their existance is a story about kindness and service.  Last year, in early summer, I got the usual wonderful offers for bedding bulbs to be sent in the fall for late fall planting.  Of course, I assumed that I would be able to handle this, and enticed by the beautiful pictures, I ordered a good assortment of hyacinths, daffodils, and tulips.  What I didn't count on was being knocked out of commission for two months and more, unable to carry out the work of planting when the box arrived around the second week in October.  One of my neighbors, a young mother, came to see me, and asked the usual "Is there anything I can do for you?".  Instead of my usual response, "No, thanks", I told her about the box of bulbs and suggested that she take them home and plant them in her yard.  I didn't hear any more for a couple of days, but when Saturday came, the three young mothers who live in our cul-de-sac were outside cleaning out my four flower beds, and asking for instructions about where I wanted the bulbs planted, as well as how to plant them, because none of them had every planted bulbs before.  I could still demonstrate which side of the bulb goes up, and tell them about my plans.  Everything was done in the yard in a few hours, and I was totally amazed.  (Ah, youth!)  You can probably tell that we really love this cul-de-sac where we live.

The Last Holdout!

The picture at the top of my blog was taken earlier in the summer, when this begonia plant was blooming profusely, giving us beautiful blossoms to welcome visitors with.  The frost has blighted every other plant in the yard, but this plant, hiding in the corner by the front door continues to deliver.  We've never had another plant last so long in this place.  As you can see by the top picture, all the flower beds have been prepared for winter, including planing tulip and hyacinth bulbs, by the three families who live in our cul-de-sac.  Thank goodness for such sharing and caring people.  We have seen much goodness and sharing in the last months!

Halloween - Is it Over?

Halloween is never one of my favorite holidays, but this year was a little different.  We live next door to a wonderful family, mom, dad, two boys, and a little girl.  The boys come to visit on occasion, carrying on almost adult conversations.  This year, their garden yielded some large pumpkins - the largest being the oldest boy's Jack-o-lantern, the next in size going to the next son, and then came our surprise - they came to our house, excitedly bearing this Jack-o-lantern, complete with flickering light inside that could be turned off and on.  We felt honored, and after the traditional Trunk or Treat in our neighborhood, they came to see us to show off the costumes.  Halloween can be fun.
I do need to explain my own frustrations with Halloween.  My children always wanted costumes, and, since extra money was nonexistant,  weren't very amenable to my suggestions of either going as a ghost (old sheets with holes cut in appropriate places), or a hobo, which definitely hit a brick wall as a suggestion.  Candy was expensive, and not as conveniently packaged as our choices today.  One Halloween that we did enjoy was one when we lived in the old family home in the early 70's.  Our neighbors invited the children over for doughnuts and cider - that was much easier and healthier than the town trick or treating that they did later.  Besides my own children eating too much candy, I also remember when I was teaching in the primary grades (1, 2), when we literally had to scrape children off of the ceiling because of the candy high.  I never planned on doing too much at school if the day after Halloween came on a school day.
     Halloween never got much attention when we were children.  Some boys would go around trying to tip over outhouses, but since our FHA special had a concrete base, it was too daunting.  My first year of teaching school in Riverton gave me the experience of having to organize a Halloween party at school (yes, we did lots of school parties in those days), and then having the second graders join in the school's parade in full costume downtown on a sunny, golden afternoon.  There are advantages to being in a retirement mode!  Our only role now is answering the doorbell with a bowl full of Snickers.  Little kids early, older kids later, and we're done!  The Jack o-lantern is preserved in my picture files, and life goes on.

The "Tale" of Bo, the Neighbor's Dog

Ron had to shovel a path through the deep snow, because Bo didn't have the energy to plow his way through on Sunday.

About 14 years ago, our neighbor, the orchardist and retired Boeing engineer, got this dog, which he named Bo. He acquired the dog because his old herd dog, Smokey, had become blind, and was not of any help herding the cattle on the farm. However, as a herd dog, Bo proved to be worthless - he was a very enthusiastic chaser of cows, sending them all over the place. So, Bo became the follower of the 4-wheeler, the constant companion of his owner, and a frequent visitor here (the path in the snow is similar to the one that is worn in the grass, through our back hard, across the basketball court, between the evergreens and to his warm garage bed.) Ron began going to the local grocery store (there is only 1 in town), and buying packages of soup bones, which he then bakes in the oven, and freezes, thawing one each morning for Bo. Sometimes Bo will exchange his dry bone treat (from a box) for the real thing, leaving his other bone discarded on the patio. The summer when Bo was about 3, our grandchildren were here. Bo always loved to come over and let them maul him. They discovered a heavy rubber band caught around his lower jaw, and digging into the flesh. In time, the jaw might have been amputated, had it not been discovered. Our neighbor, Don, took the dog to the vet, and he operated to dig out the rubber band. Ever after, when these grandchildren would come, they would look for the place on his jaw where the rubber band had been, feeling that their keen observation had saved his life. Over the years, Bo has become somewhat blind, so that he barks at us now when we go to our neighbor's home, but a scold reminds him that you shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you. He has also become very arthritic, and, although he sleeps on a heated pad, he has difficulty getting around some days. He is on a regimen of glucosamine-chondroitin-msm, which helps, just as it helps us. His time on this earth can't be very long. However, we received a real shock this morning, when a call came quite early, telling us that Bo's master had had a stroke last night after the Preston basketball victory in Pocatello. Don, his son, and three grandchildren, went to a restaurant to eat, and he quickly became ill, and died in the ambulance halfway to the hospital. We are constantly reminded that our time here is not ours to determine. Change can come very quickly. So, sometimes, as in the case of Bo, the dog, we live in expectation of death, and prepare for that eventuality. But, the shock of having a friend and neighbor unexpectedly pass from life so suddenly requires a great shift in thinking and being, and reminds us all of our mortality, and that things will not go on forever as they are today. Moral to be learned? Take care of each minute that you can. Enjoy the people in your family and around you. Mend fences where they need it. Be there for others. Follow the commandments, and say your prayers.

The Dog Days of Summer

Our neighbor's sheepdog, Bo, comes to our patio door frequently, partly because Ron gives him a bone to gnaw on every morning for a treat, and partly because he just likes to hang out here. (He's been known to drop a commercial dog bone treat on the patio in payment for the real one that Ron gives him.) Then, he often takes his ease on the grass - this is a particularly ungraceful pose, but he seems to be very comfortable. I suppose that the warmer the days get, the more comfortable the cool, damp grass is to a very old dog. Ah, for the uncomplicated (?) life of a dog.