Good bread in Clark Fork

The sun came out and stayed yesterday. It's been a while since that happened, so Mother and I took advantage of its visit. We made arrangements to meet at my house soon after completion of my scheduled telephone interview with the Texan who, thankfully on his own, began to call me "Hon" or "Ma'am" rather than "Sir." Sure does make an interview go a lot easier on this end.

He's a pretty cool guy who does stuff the old fashioned way---through sensible hard work. He once tended to 800 goats and 200 sheep. He told me, though, that land grabbing isn't much different down in the West Texas hill country than it is right here in North Idaho. The cattle, sheep and goat ranches are all turning into subdivisions. Now, he's into pecans on his 75-acre ranch.

Anyway, we got a good start on the interview, and about half an hour into it, when my fingers started playing their usual tricks on the keyboard, I said that was enough for today. He'll be sitting in his daughter's store in Barksdale, waiting for me to call again today after removing the stirrup-making glue from his hands, following another morning of leathercraft.

After I hung up yesterday, Mother soon showed up ready to head to town. She wanted to keep her string of Litehouse gift paks going by sending out another box to our relatives in Pine Grove, Calif. Mother's probably one of the most loyal customers for Litehouse these days. She wants to guarantee that her money keeps coming in, so she even tells folks in the restaurants to make sure that Bleu Cheese on the salad comes from Litehouse. I think the Sandpoint eateries know that's a wise idea anyway.

After our visit to the Lake Street gift store, we stopped by Northwest Handmades on First Avenue. Before Christmas, I went in there, spied Judy Pederson's beautiful watercolor painting of our recently decimated Upper Tibbs place and decided the piece of art needed to reside within one of our family homes. After a few initial schemes, Bill stepped to the plate and told me that if I wanted it, I could consider it my Christmas gift. So, the painting now hangs on my living room wall just above the cute "Love" basket Charlie's mom brought me before Christmas.

Until that day of discovering Judy's painting along with all her other phenomenal works, I'd never entered Northwest Handmades. Always thought it was just a bunch of birch beds. After that first visit, I wanted to spank myself for bypassing the place all these years. Everything's unique to the store, and everything's beautifully crafted stuff by local and regional artisans. So, yesterday was Mother's introduction; she concurred that it's a great place to shop.

Our next plan for the afternoon was to take a nice, short drive. Since abundant blue sky was still hanging out to the east, we headed down HWY 200 to Clark Fork. Bill had been telling me for some time about the Pantry in Clark Fork, which is run by Mennonites. On past experiences, our Clark Fork tours always seemed to land on Sundays when the Pantry was closed. So, my goal was to once and for all, check the place out.

Again, just like Northwest Handmades, we made our own pleasant discoveries upon entry. While we were deciding which of the baked treats on the deli counter would go good with our coffee, the nice young clerk said, "The pumpkin swirls are my favorites; they're back there in the cooler."

So, we eventually found them, individually wrapped in cellophane. Then, we took our coffee and 4,000-calorie swirls of pumpkin alternating with half-inch thick cream cheese filling and sat at a table right next to dozens of bags of yummy-looking specialty candies and nuts---gummy bears, taffy, huge malted milk balls, etc.

One bite of that pumpkin treat told me it would be salad for dinner tonight because I knew I was going to eat all 4,000 calories. Mother agreed. As the coffee did its usual bladder plunge, I headed to the restroom and walked by another counter where a line of fresh, hot loaves of 8-grain bread still rested in the baking pans. Within minutes, the nice young clerk was ringing up two brown loaves for me, a piece of pecan pie for Bill, and an additional loaf for Mother.

In the meantime, a big white-bearded gentleman resembling Merlin Olson from "Little House on the Prairie" walked in. It was obvious he knew the drill as he wasted no time ordering his deli meats and cheese on fresh-baked sourdough bread, added a cookie and came to the table next to us. I waited until he'd taken a couple of bites of that plump sandwich to strike up a conversation with him. He seemed happy to oblige.

Ask those questions, grab those nuggets, find that goldmine. Well, I haven't exactly gotten deep into the mine, but the guy's pretty interesting. Cal Poly animal science grad, inventer, member of the Stetson hat family. He seemed equally fascinated with the cute little mother and her nosy daughter at the adjoining table. He also seemed fascinated with contacting my buddy Boots Reynolds for some help on a cartoon idea he has for advertising his invention.

We agreed that we'd probably talk again as Mother and I headed for the car. All the way back to Sandpoint, she marveled at what a fine afternoon it had been. The clouds were smothering the sunshine by the time we pulled into my driveway, but the fresh bread was still smelling mighty fine. She headed back home to Colburn and I, back to my house.

I don't know who dug into their loaf of bread first, but this morning I can tell you for sure, there's mighty good bread at the Pantry in Clark Fork.