Who Is This?

Salal, Sand Dollars, and Ships
By Larry Dake

We saw an ad in the paper that a Salal buyer needed people to go out into the forest to pick Salal. Salal is a broadleaf shrub. It has shiny, evergreen leaves that grow in a spray on its branches. It is used by flower shops in floral arrangements.

We got our instructions from the Salal buyer and went into the woods, hunting for the shrub. Sherry, the kids, and I spent most of a day gathering the desired branches into neat little bundles, which we tied up with the strings the buyer had given us. By late afternoon we had the trunk of the car full. The branches had a fresh, lemony smell.

It was an enjoyable time out in the Oregon forest with the ever present misty rain drifting down through the trees onto our little family of "gatherers." At the end of the day, we went back to the Salal buyers.

They looked into our trunk and shook their heads in dismay. The bundles weren't done quite right, they said. They couldn't pay us. But we could try again tomorrow.

Even on a good day, with "acceptable" bundles, there was little pay. They told us of large families of Cambodian immigrants who do the low paying job on a regular basis.

The memories we made as "hunter-gatherers" were well worth the time we invested into it; the Oregon rainforest is a magical place, and a pleasure to be out in -- even in the misty rain.

***

On an occasional Sunday afternoon, I'd set up a tripod of sticks over a small hole dug in our front yard. The hole served as a fire pit. I'd skewer a whole chicken on a stick, and then dangle the stick and the chicken from a couple of wires. I'd rotate the chicken slowly over the fire.

Along with Sherry's excellent kitchen cooking, the chicken made for a delicious meal. It was a nice way to while away a Sunday afternoon by ourselves, or with guests.

***

The beaches on the Columbia River and the Pacific Ocean were wonder-filled places. Our experience in Oregon was that the beaches were uncrowded places. We could run barefoot in the waves -- while wearing a sweater or a jacket -- or we could walk, unhindered, for miles. There were always interesting sea creatures, seaweeds, or flotsam to discover.

Complete sand dollars could be found when we searched diligently. The most sought after prize was a round, blown-glass float from a Japanese fisherman's net. We never found one, but we'd seen them in the homes of our friends, and in gift shops, and we always hoped to find one for ourselves.

The roaring of the ocean's waves, rolling onto the beach, or crashing into the rocks, was an incredible experience for us previously land-bound, Midwestern, flat-landers. The waves were awe inspiring in power, and pacifying in rhythm.

The coming and going of the tides, and the smell and taste of salt in the air, added a special mystique.

At one beach we visited, kite flying was a popular sport. We did something unusual and bought a purple plastic stunt kite with a long, yellow tail. It had two strings and two handles. It was a wonderful way to get our adrenalin flowing without endangering life or limb. The strong, steady winds were perfect, as we did loops and tailspins in the sky. We could swoop within inches of the beach and then back up, far overhead -- in seconds. At times it felt as though the kite might lift us off the ground.

The Columbia River beach near our little red house was more serene, but equally as fascinating. The quietness and calm of the river were in distinct contrast to the large ocean going ships that sailed by. We'd hear their booming foghorns around the gentle bends in the river before they'd come into sight. They were often huge ships, stacked high with shipping containers or Toyota automobiles. There were also tugboats, barges, and commercial fishing boats sharing the river with the monstrous ships. On one occasion we watched from the beach as several mighty, Navy fighting vessels sailed by. Most of the ships were on their way to or from Portland, Oregon.

Occasionally, a tiny wind-surfer in his brightly colored wet suit could be seen riding on his sail-powered surfboard, darting about on the wind and riding on the wake of the ships. This was often to the consternation of the riverboat captains, who would toot their horns angrily.

At home, in the evening we'd lie on our beds in our little red house and listen to the foghorns moving up and down the river.

Early on one such evening, we got a phone call. It was a rancher from Eastern Oregon. He had received our "Work Wanted" postcard. After chatting briefly, he invited us to come out for an interview -- they'd pay for our travel expense, and they would put us up for the night, on the ranch.

We were soon on the road in our little-old-ladies, eggshell colored, economy sedan, headed to the ranch for an interview.

A new world awaited us.

Amy & Sarah, left; Sherry & Sarah running on ocean beach, right.

This Week's Birthdays:
October 30---Anne Mellon Montford
November 2---Gert Dake Pettit
November 2---Brianna Susan Lehtola (4 years)
Happy Birthday!

More November Birthdays:
'
November 7---Steven Anderson
November 7---Thomas Roland Mellon
November 7---Sandra Kay Miller Smith
November 10---Argyle Anderson
November 11---Allison Aydelotte (8 years)
November 12---Patty Anderson Henderson
November 14---Marian Miller
November 17---Zachary Myron
November 17---Mark Andrew Johnson
November 19---Tyler Swenson
November 21---Alex Jo Marie Sigman (1 year)
November 21---Amy Elaine Printz (1 year)
November 26---DeLoris Anderson
November 30---Aaron Stahlecker

November Anniversaries
Z
November 16---Argyle and Kathlyn Johnson Anderson (42 years)
November 26---Ben and Heather Henderson (1 year)
November 29---Kurtis and Jeni Larson (1 year)

November Special Days
November 11---Veterans' Day
November 24---Thanksgiving

Miss Hetty's Mailbox:

Dear Miss Hetty,

Thank you for the frog card you sent me for my birthday. It was very funny to me, because my grandpa Wisseman plays the guitar and has to "hunt" for his pick sometimes. His birthday is two days after mine, so I shared that card with him. Thank you!!

Love, Wade [Printz]

Wade Printz and friends celebrate his 6th birthday.
Wade's note regarding photo caption:
abby kotwz, morgin, cl atin patin callie wade alusin ladin amy crista cac

itwazfunthbrthtapordy

His Mother's interpretation (clockwise from left):
(Abby Kottwitz, Morgan, Clayton, Peyton, Callie, Wade, Allison, Landin, Amy, Krista, Cake :)

It was fun, the birthday party.

For Wade's birthday, we started out with birthday breakfast and opening gifts before Justin went to work and Wade to school. In the afternoon, Callie made cupcakes and we took them in to the school. Wade and the other five kids in his class welcomed Callie and Amy into kindergarten for the afternoon, so we had cupcakes and lots of fun!

We have lots of little kids here on the ranch where we live, so there was a birthday party on Saturday that all of the kids came to -- that is all of our ranch kids in the picture. They broke a piñata and ate football cake and then rode bikes all morning. It was a fun 6th birthday, and Wade is pretty sure that he will be starting first grade any day, now that he's six years old! :)

Melody Printz
Edgemont, SD

Kinda late but need to say "Thanks" for remembering our anniversary and the card was very much appreciated. We took a little trip up to the "high" country to see all the changing colors! The higher you go, the different trees have taken on brighter colors and you know the seasons are changing. Thanks again. Need to get you more for The Bulletin...

Tom & Lou Miller
Madera, CA

Thanks for the birthday greeting. That's exactly why we don't have cats. ;-)

Marlene Johnson
Long Lake, MN

Miss Hetty's Comment: If our birthday kitty has scratched out his greetings to you on the davenport, you will understand what Marlene means!

Miss Hetty Says

Just in time for Hallowe'en ... the search "spider" has been sent around to index our pages so the October issues will be searchable, along with previous back issues and other pages.

Quotation for the day: God created company so the house would get cleaned. -- from The Procrastinator's Handbook by Rita Emmett