Judy day

Judy being sung to

 "Wonderful things of folks are said 

   when they have passed away.

Roses adorn their narrow bed 

   over the sleeping clay.

Give me the roses while I live, 

    trying to cheer me on.

Useless are flowers that you give

  after the soul is gone,"

Janet

 Fuey sang for  Judy.  The song set the theme of the house concert that Fuey and her daughter Janet gave for Judy in our living room lat Sunday.  Judy was insistent that she wanted only her ukulele group at the concert.  "Janet's flying up from Santa Rosa to play for 5 people plus us?  And what about our friends and neighbors?" I said. But Judy was adamant, and the small group made magic in their honoring of Judy.
   Fuey played autoharp and sang the song Judy had requested, Going to Heaven in a Glad Bag.  Janet,  who made the music at our wedding two years ago, treated us to a variety of tunes. She sang some fine Kate Wolfe songs, which she is regionally famous for. She ended with Give Yourself to Love. There were not many dry eyes.      
         Janet and Fuey wanted to do the concert in spite of the death 5 days before of Fuey's husband and Janet's father Norm. Norm had dementia, but he loved Judy. When we went with Fuey to visit him at the Veterans' Home in Lebanon, he couldn't place us but he knew Judy was someone special.   How his face lit up when he saw her!

Judy with Fuey and Norm

Lemon meringue pie

    After everyone had left from the concert, good neighbor Janet came over with a lemon meringue pie for Judy. "I made two and told Kelli (her daughter) that I'd bring one to her.  She likes lemon meringue.  But Kelli said, "Give it to Judy.  She really loves them.' "
    That evening Judy and I were glowing about what a day it had been.  Judy grinned and named the third good thing,  "And Rosie's coming tomorrow."

Rosie visits

Ghost Candy

Travis and Fanglorico.  Mudlark Theater photo

Jack, Charlie, and Sam prepare for trick or treat

     Charlie on the phone was waxing enthusiastic about his upcoming improv show.  "And maybe you can come, too, Grandma," he added hopefully.  I gave him some nonsense about not being able to leave Judy.  After I hung up, I shook myself and thought Wait a minute!  Judy, of course, urged me to go.  I morphed into a member of a younger generation and booked a trip to Evanston for Friday morning through Sunday morning.  When I told Charlie I was coming, his first words were, "But what about Judy?" Charlie is extraordinarily empathetic for a ten- year -old boy.

Jack

Cool Jack

    The Mudlark Theater Company presented Ghost Candy, a revue of Halloween sketches by a group of 9- to 14 -year- olds. Charlie and his friend Foster were the hosts and announcers. They had worked together for months, coming up with some of the dialog themselves. Charlie played the aggressive, spooky Fanglorico,who got increasingly fed up with  his too-gentle co-host, Travis. The show was fast and funny, with big dance numbers as well as skits.  The kids had fun and showed the kind of pride in themselves that was secondary to  pride in the company and the show.

Eggs Benedict Arnold Palmer

     The day before I left for Evanston I had gotten a smart phone, hoping that Jack would help me learn it. That he did, assiduously.  I had a hard time convincing him that my brain
was full, that I wanted to wait until morning to learn any more new tricks.  But thanks partly to Jack, I can now receive photos on my phone.  Feel free folks; I love photos.

Tina

     Halloween in Evanston was a moving feast of visiting.  Trick or treating happens only between 5 and 7 PM, and the sidewalks are full of children and parents in costume.  Tina, her mother Kateryna, and I played Scrabble in front of the fire while answering the doorbell, oohing and aahing at the little ones in costume. Paul in his traditional Elmo wig ("Good for a bald guy") took Sam and his group around.  Jack was off with his friends, ranging far and wide before heading for a slumber party.  Charlie went to a party next door;  Sam  joined them after sorting out his candy. Friends of  Paul and Tina lingered on the porch, visiting and  catching up before moving on to the next house.

Sam and Kateryna carve a Jack o 'lantern

     Before I left the next morning, Sam asked me, "Would you like some candy to go with the sandwich you are packing for the plane?"  I asked him to choose for me. Sam gave me his favorites from his trick or treat bag: Snickers and a Heath bar.

   

Sisters playing

   

Happiness

Rain dance

Maxine

 I didn't want to leave Judy, but I hadn't seen Maxine and Simone in 10 months. So I booked a trip to Texas. "John and I will  come down and stay with Judy," Rose volunteered immediately. I was ready to stock the refrigerator and leave with a clear conscience, but Judy was dithering. After two weeks she admitted that she would rather that John and Rose came to visit another time. "Things work better when you are here," she said after her first day alone, "but I had to try this."
     Courtney, Maxine and Simone picked me up at the College Station airport. Simone took care to wear the dance outfit that Maxine had worn in the

Not a metaphor

Maldives. Back at the Ninja castle Maxine climbed the walls, telling me that in her case it was not a metaphor. After dinner Maxine did her nightly music practice on the guitar and drums, with Courtney patiently helping her through the complicated patterns.
   After school the next day, Maxine played and played with her best friend Rossi, with little sister Simone trailing behind. "Watch this," Maxine shouted, as she stood up on the swings. I was transported back to my days of doing tricks with my sisters on the swings. Thank goodness Maxine has not yet discovered jumping off.  The three girls swung and zipped around the grassy playground for more than an hour, chattering and laughing.

Swim meet

Princess boots

Scooter  in the rain

    Later we went to the closing buffet  at a conference Courtney was involved with.  Simone danced to the music in her pink boots. "They are NOT cowgirl boots," she insisted. "They are princess boots."

Simone in the ball pit

    It was raining heavily in Texas, a result of Hurricane Patricia. The creek

Halloween

behind Courtney's house roared through its channel, almost overflowing the banks. On Saturday Maxine raced in a  swim meet, and then the girls played in the ball pit. When we got home, the driveway was flooded. Maxine rushed to open her umbrella and jump on her scooter to ride around in the deep puddle.

Saying goodbye

     The girls prepared a dance show. Simone decorated with empty Kleenex boxes while Maxine chose the music videos. The costuming was exquisite, and the dancing was graceful and energetic. Later Maxine set up a nail salon and painted all of our finger nails.
   On Sunday we went to a Halloween party, where the kids painted pumpkins and faces and screamed  in the scary closet.
     Courtney and I had a good quiet morning together on Monday, and then it was time to leave. I came home with a full heart.

   

Down on Sally's farm

Judy makes a friend

 

Judy and Sally make music at Vista House

     Sally invited us to her farm in Colton so that Judy could pet the donkeys. Judy at one time had a donkey named Casey, who would bray a welcome when Judy came home from work.  Casey's best friend was the miniature goat Vinnie (for Vincent van Goat.)  Judy chuckles through many stories about the adventures of Casey and Vinnie. In recent years, Judy has

The main attraction

volunteered at a donkey rescue farm, brushing and grooming the animals and sneaking them treats. These days  walking though fields and barnyards, as well as breathing the dust raised from grooming, prevent Judy from helping out at the rescue mission.
    Sally served us an elegant lunch and showed us some of her quilts and paintings while she and Judy talked music. Even from her remote farm forty minutes from town, Sally gathers people around her to learn dulcimer and to play old-time music. After lunch  and Sally drove us up to the barn to see the donkeys. Judy had a good long love- in with them, rubbing their ears and feeding them carrots.

Happy time

Before the joy ride

     Then we piled into the John Deere Gator tractor and Sally drove us all  over the farm. There we were, Judy with her oxygen tank, Sally facing surgery, and I with my aching joints, grinning and whooping like teenagers out for a joy ride. We lurched over the fields that Sally's husband has retaken from blackberries, past the vegetable beds, the apple trees, and the pond now dried up. We ended at Sally's secluded writing spot, where she can see Mt. Hood through the cedars.
     It was a fine fall day in the country, down on Sally's farm.

 

Invaders and defenders

     One dark night, as I was working a jigsaw puzzle at the dining room table, I heard a faint growl from the back yard.  It didn't sound like our little dog.  The rustling I am so used to hearing when Mutt Leigh patrols her territory sounded  different, too. I went out the screen door to call Mutt Leigh in, but she ignored me. Mutt Leigh had cornered a possum.

Possum

     The possum was not playing dead. It was hissing and growling at Mutt Leigh. Mutt Leigh was frozen in place, about 2 feet in front of the possum, barking her head off.  I couldn't grab Miss M without forcing her closer to the possum, so I just insisted that she come inside. What a relief when she listened to me instead of following her doggie instinct!  The possum, which was about as big as a large house cat, then waddled briskly across our deck and off into the night.
     In the weeks before the standoff, Mutt Leigh would wake us up at 2 or 3 in the morning, frantic to get outside and and drive off the creature that was passing though our side yard and across the back.  She would charge the windows, scratch wildly at the back door,  or try to climb into the bath tub,  trembling and barking her head off.
     After she encountered the possum in the flesh, Mutt Leigh was much less eager to go outside and confront whatever was invading her world. She still woke up and barked.  But we petted her and thanked her for doing her job, and she settled down. I, however, was afraid to let her out in backyard after dark. I became the vigilant one, turning on the lights and hovering over her until she did her nightly business, then hurrying her inside.
      I engaged a critter getter service for a month. Melissa placed live

Melissa petting our critter

traps baited with miniature marshmallows in the side yard. I would cheek the traps as soon as I woke up in the mornings.  The first creature we caught was a young possum. It was awful to see its face in the trap as Melissa carried it off.  Country law now forbids relocating the animals: they have to be killed.  The next three in the traps were very large possums; I didn't feel so bad about them. I was paying a lot of money not to think too much about what happened to the animals. I was relieved not to worry about Mutt Leigh. But all that trapping and killing ( and paying)  couldn't go on. What to do?
     At a delightful morning tea given by my friend Roxie, I brought up the ugly topic with wildlife expert Jacqueline  Carl, author of Whispers from the Wild.  Jackie explained that, if you get rid of one group of creatures from your yard, another will move in.  Possums are probably the least dangerous to a dog; they would be followed by the more dangerous raccoons, and then by the even more problematic skunks.
     Now we have declared our backyard a demilitarized zone, and rely on Mutt Leigh's newfound skills at peaceful coexistence to keep her safe. Melissa came to remove the traps.  She gave Mutt Leigh one last great love fest of petting.  Melissa, troubled by the critter getting business,  is leaving the trapping to go off to radiology school.
     Meanwhile, our neighbors Tucker and Carson came by in their Halloween costumes, ready to keep the neighborhood safe. The secured the perimeter of our property, and then went on to check out  every house on the cul-de-sac.

Tucker and Carson secure the backyard

 
   
   
   

Visitors

Aniya and Mutt Leigh

Judy makes music

   

Columbia Gorge tourists

     David came to visit bringing his new lady, the delightful Aniya. At first I was disappointed to find that they weren't bringing Maxine and Simone.  Judy pointed  out that an adult weekend would be  perfect thing, and it was. We drove up the Columbia River Gorge to hear Judy play old-time music  at Vista House.  We made the obligatory stops at Powell's Books and at Voodoo Donuts. David and Aniya helped Judy find and buy a device to track and record her oxygen saturation levels 24 hours a day. Aniya formed a special bond with Mutt Leigh.  We visited and ate and laughed, and then they were gone, back to faraway Texas.

Laurie, 1965

Maggie, 1965

   Laurie, a friend from high school, came to lunch while she was here on a trip  from South Carolina. We have seen each other only twice in the past 50 years. She could remember one of the times, and I could remember the other.  We had a grand conversation, catching up and reminiscing.  Visiting with Laurie felt familiar, as if all that time had not passed.  I was surprised at how avidly I was asking about who from our class had died, and of what.  I am becoming  like my sisters who read the obituaries first thing when they open the newspaper. (They call it the Irish social column.)
 

Mutt Leigh in heaven with Nils

Judy and Holly

 Judy's  friend Holly and her husband Nils were making musical tour of the Pacific Northwest from their home in Virginia, and came by for a day or so. It was a deeply emotional, bittersweet visit, because Holly and Judy might not see each other again. Holly sang her signature  Shine On, holding Judy's hand and crying.  Nils gave Mutt Leigh all the playing and petting she could possibly absorb.   We ate too much food at the Bomber, laughed and made music, and then they too were gone.

The fire next time

Columbia River at Hood River, clear sky

     The weather forecast in recent weeks  often called for "sunny with periods of smoke." Oregon and Washington are burning. We had a dry winter and a very hot summer.  East of the Cascade mountains, there is a wildfire the size of Rhode Island burning in Washington. We have smoke jumpers coming in from Australia and New Zealand, the governor called up the national guard, and 3000 people responded to a call for volunteers. Still the fires burn. The Columbia River Gorge acts like a giant wind tunnel, blowing the smoke and particulate matter westward toward us.

St. Johns bridge, Portland

Smoke rolls into Hood River

     On the worst day, the smoke here in Milwaukie was so thick that I closed up the house, including the skylight that are always cracked open. I was disoriented driving because everything around me looked so distorted.
Worried friends called, concerned for Judy.
   Judy braved the smoke  to go 60 miles up the Columbia Gorge, 60 miles closer to the fires, to Hood River for a ukulele workshop.  She wore a mask
and used her oxygen well and was vigilant about parking close to entrances.  She managed to spend only 10 minutes total during the two days outside of air-conditioning. She came home to our closed-up house and seemed none the worse for her adventure.
     "Climate change" seems like such an inadequate term, with no actor and no acted upon.  It reminds me of the twist reporters make when they talk about " a family troubled by domestic violence," instead of "men battering women." What if we called our current crisis "the destruction of our biosphere?"
     Les looked out of his balcony high above downtown Portland and said, "It looks like Beijing."  How does anybody live like this?  How will we live like this?
      The wind has shifted now to blow to the west, and we have had rain.  But the smoke could come back with the next east  wind.

It's raining