USPS unites with the DARK SIDE

Yesterday, I had a run in with the Post Mistress in my po dunk town. She kept our checks out of the mailbox because it was adressed to our street address and not our Post Office Box. She kept them 5 days because I am not there everyday during thier limited business hours. She wrote on my check boxes that we need to correct the address. She knew which box they belonged to as all I told her was the box number. She was so snotty that I wanted to say "You kept them out of my mailbox for 5 days to punish us? That doesn't seem to be very professional as the note would have sufficed." Of course I said, "So nice to meet you. Have a wonderful day." Which means I lied. God please fogive me, but when I say things people take things so much more seriously. I went to USPS dot com and discouvered that "Two Powerful Forces will Unite" I found this teaser explaining the unholy union (kind of). I am sad to say Darth Postmistress will get her wish and I will add the box number. Of all the battles I face, the po box # is just a little one even if she thinks she is all powerful to make us wait for our checks.

Hard Scrabble Ridge (a name that really means it)

Once upon a time a friend and I explored Oregon together. We found many beautiful places. It was a time of mixed tapes and coffee. We drove my Geo Metro 4 door to far off places in the wilds of Oregon, places a Geo Metro should not go. The fact that we could get this car to go into these places always pleased us. We were alone in the Hills.

It was late March. The valleys were lush in bloom and it was warm. The farther we went into the Hills though the cooler it got. The snowier it got. We turned up one gravel road then another. The signs turned from Heppner-Spray HWY to Stump Spring to Hardscrabble Ridge. Really if we were rational people we would have turned around. However, we were explorers just a little step apart from tourist. As I drove up the road labeled Hardscrabble Ridge, Ma Seri (my little purple car) started to quake in fear. She really wanted to go the other way, especially when the snow started touching her tires, then her rims, then her underbelly. It was too late to turn around, and the old tire ruts didn't want to release us from our ill-chosen path.

We didn't know if we should just back up the mile we had come or if Hardscrabble Ridge would get better and our path would clear up. The car chose for us when the snow reached the belly and we ground to a halt.

We were miles from anyone.

My companion found a channel lock that I had tossed in the back seat. I dug out the chains from under the spare tire. We set about shoveling snow out from under the car. I walked a little ways ahead trying to remember my Montana Ranch up bringing. I saw cougar tracks, my heart beat faster, but they were iced over so I hoped that meant that they were out of the area. I saw deer tracks and I saw the other side of the mountain. It seems that Hardscrabble Ridge didn't ever let up. I went back.

We got the chains on the front wheel and Martin got bloody hands. I backed up through icy snow ruts for about a mile. A magpie of happiness greeted us and lead our way. The bees and fresh spring flower fragrance greeted us and sweetened out relief of living.

As soon as we got to the bottom a truck drove by us up Hardscrabble Ridge.

Snacks for Champs

My mother and mother-in-law visited me in my little home today. I showed them the re-arranged rooms and we went out to lunch. We also visted the little store here. I tell you there are some really stupid people in the world. The checker was right up there with the best of the popped light bulbs. My mom bought 2 NECCO wafers at $.59 each. This should ring up as $1.18. The checker rung one up on the touch screen fairly easy to use cash register and requested that my mother pay $.59. My mom pointed at the other NECCO treat she was trying to buy. The woman said $.59. My mom said loudly hoping some other employee would hear "Oh its a 2 for one sale?" and gave the $1.18. The cachier gave $.59 back to my mom. She decided it was time to move on.

My mother-in-law found a good deal on peaches $.69 cents a pound. She had about 20 peaches and each peach was large probably over a quarter pound. The above mentioned cachier carefully weighed the plastic bag of peaches and looked at the flat screen and said "$.69 please." Of course my mother in law questioned that the bag was only one pound. The cachier said, yes it is "$.69 please." My mother in law finally talked her into acctually charging what they were worth.

We went for a drive through the countryside and enjoyed the blues and yellows and whites. The Crazy Mountains have a fresh dusting of snow. It was lovely. lovely lovely. My mother offered me one of the aforementioned NECCO wafers. I took it and got an orange and grey wafer. I tried the orange one. PUKE. it is a disgusting chaulky nasty chemical tasting chicklet of shit! I gave the otherone back. My mother-in-law ate it and a putrid black licorice rank odor filled the car. It turned my stomach. I felt like I had just gone from zero to 10 G's. I rolled down the window and the crisp fall air helped my ralph-reflex. As I am not shy about how I fell both women got to hear how I felt. My mother said "My mom taught me to love NECCO wafers" This was my beloved grandma of course and I mentioned that she also loved Pinkies and Marshmellow Peanuts. Both of which I hate with the passion of 45 devils!

When I went back to the store for spuds for our dinner I decided that I did like some things my Grandma loved. I love homemade baked macaroni and cheese with peas. I love popcorn (just not with milk). I love the smell of Ciara. I love traveling. I love my mother. I love buttermints and peanuts. Which i am eating tonight. I love you gradma. I miss you. You would love my son and the young man my brother is becoming.