To all you who responded to my Hole in the Floor post, I want you to know your comments and support are very helpful, and you are all appreciated. I am not alone, as I’ve recently heard, 3/4 of Bend’s homes have some snow/ice dam damage. There are many in the same situation that I’m in.
Most of you asked about my next move. I did put money down on a small house in Bend’s east side that I was pretty excited about – was being the operative word in this case. I’m not sure now. There’s one training certificate related to my pending loan that needs a signature – which has been refused. The only thing I can do is keep the faith and know things will all work out for everyone’s very best.
What was, isn’t any more:
Several evenings ago the sky was red with flashing lights from emergency vehicles. The home two houses up from me was on fire and flames rising high into the sky. The damages to the home are sizable but repairable. Then “bam,” the house next to the burned house had a major explosion resulting in, apparent, substantial damage. What happened to Skyline Dr. and its back-road quietude? I feel deeply for the neighbors and their losses. This week has made up for many years of relatively uneventful living in the mountains.
Even though as I write it’s cold, snowing, and blowing like crazy, I’m imagining warmth and some comfort ahead. My love to all.
If you’ve ever been to Fort Rock in the Central Oregon Desert, you’ll remember that it is formed of jagged lava rock that has taken the shape of a crescent. It’s dry and desolate, to me. So now, I seem to be existing in a near replica which I have named Fort Snow. (Not dry but maybe a little desolate.) The photos attached will tell you the story of the enormous snow load I am dealing with and some of the havoc it has raised. The inside has some significant damage caused by snow melt that crept silently down beams, under flooring, and into the main crawl space under the kitchen . It’s not the end of the world, but just one more thing to deal with as I pack to move and try to find a place to live. What a time for Bend to come up with an unprecedented snow dump.
Here’s the story behind my pictorial essay: lots of snow, piles so high I don’t have to think about anyone looking in my windows – or me looking out, tractor heading down towards my front door, Fort Snow forming, dogs going crazy with fun, and at last a fond farewell to my 1990 Subaru Legacy. She’s off to become a KLCC radio program.
By the way, it’s my 78th birthday, and I so appreciate the many, many birthday wishes that showed up on m Facebook page this morning. I really needed that kind of support today, and it helped me to remember who we all are – just a bunch of good friends and family who know how to reach out to one another.
Just as I put the last piece of wood in the wood stove this morning, I looked out the window toward the road and noticed two little ski hats bobbing above the snow berm in front of my house. It was my granddaughters who were enjoying a “snow day” and out touring the neighborhood. (The temperature is 8 degrees.) They turned into my driveway, came to the door and ask, “Do you need wood hauled grandma?” This is life at its best.
They live two houses away from me, are the sweetest, funniest, most beautiful girls and have been a joy since their birth. As babies they crawled around my floor, as toddlers were, well toddlers needing constant care and companionship, and have been a consistent presence in my life for almost fourteen years. Ellie will be fourteen in March. We can only dream of how our little ones will merge their personalities and abilities into the different phases of their lives, but never I could have known one day they’d come to my door asking if they could help me – haul wood. They are two reasons I am not looking forward to my move away from my neighborhood, but then in six years or so they might be leaving too.
Less than an hour later my oldest son, plow and all, comes to blow out my driveway. What a family!
This year Christmas decorating took back stage to the cleaning/showing routine I’ve fallen in to. Our house remains UNsold, although it showed last week for the 31st time. No greens or reds or Christmas colors can be found inside, but that which nature is offering OUTSIDE cannot be outdone. Yesterday as the sun was setting I discovered just outside my window a beautiful flocked tree with tiny lights nestled amongst its branches.
This morning as the sun came up over the ridge, there is was more flocking and my tree gleamed brilliant with new light.
I posted this poem last Fall, but it’s one of my favorites:
She celebrated the sacrament of letting go.
Then orange, yellow and red, Finally she let go of her brown.
Shedding her last leaf she watched its journey to the ground.
She stood in silence wearing the color of emptiness
Her branches wondering how do you give shadow with so much gone.
She stood empty and silent stripped bare leaning against the winter sky.
She began her vigil of trust
And then the sacrament of waiting began.”
Winter is the season I “wait” for each year, anticipating the peace, surprise, and absolute beauty of snow all around, on the ground, in the trees, flakes falling through the cold skies. Thanksgiving in the past marked the first day of skiing on the mountain. It still does for the younger part of my family, but now, a bit older and a whole lot more cautious, I’m blessed with “slow beauty” – or cross country skiing. Isabella and I venture out daily, she wearing bear feet and I my skis, to feel the blessing of all that is in and all around. I’m thankful for the quiet of winter and “trust” that the snows are here to stay. A fire in the wood stove, holiday lights inside and out, a blanket and a good book to end the day is what I have? (Just read “Lab Girl” – so good and funny – and now “Boys in the Boat” – well written.) Thank you all for being but, yet, one more blessing that I can give thanks for.
Wishing everyone a Thanksgiving filled with love, kindness, wellbeing, and warmth – the warmth part is for those who prefer temperatures that would melt snow.